


Same River Twice

by katling



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Blood Magic, M/M, Sequel, Slavery, alternate path taken, mentions of withdrawal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-05-04 17:18:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5342147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katling/pseuds/katling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wrote the fic <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/5323241">Darkness Peering</a> for the Reverse Big Bang on tumblr and then had the thought of 'what would it be like in ten years when Inquisition occurs?'. This is that fic. I recommend reading Darkness Peering first so this makes sense.</p><p>
  <i>No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man. ~ Heraclitus</i>
</p><p>Ten years after the events in the Circle in Minrathous, Dorian and Cullen's lives are shaken up by Halward Pavus' actions, Felix's plea for help and an enormous hole in the sky. Sometimes you can end up on a different river and still end up in more or less the same place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Cullen slammed the door to his small apartment within the Fereldan Embassy and leaned against it with an aggravated sigh. He knew he was going to have to apologise to various people at some point but right now he didn’t care one bit. Or he cared a little bit but not enough to rein in his temper before it got the better of him in the meeting he’d just been a part of. When the Ambassador had arched an eyebrow and declared a recess until tomorrow, Cullen had felt a twinge of guilt that had been swept away by the relief of not having to deal with anyone anymore today.

He sighed again and pushed himself off the door. He pulled off his armour and hung it on its rack before he headed for the washroom. Ten years in Minrathous had certainly changed him, though sometimes he wondered if it was Minrathous that had changed him or just the passage of time. Even before Kinloch, he’d never have dared to express his impatience with nobles in the way he had today but he’d certainly had no hesitation. As he stripped off his tunic to give himself a quick wash, he realised that the Ambassador must have been of the same opinion as he was. He certainly hadn’t apologised or tried to minimise the impact of Cullen’s words. All he’d done was blandly suggest a recess until tomorrow.

Cullen snorted and tossed his discarded shirt into the washing basket. It wasn’t the first time Theodore had used his impatience with the petty concerns of the nobility to his advantage, though usually they went into these meetings already aware that Cullen was going to act as the Ambassador’s battering ram. He shook his head and pulled another shirt out of the wardrobe. He had it half on before he realised it wasn’t one of his.

He finished pulling on the shirt, one of fine silk rather than his usual linen, and sat down heavily on the bed. Dorian practically lived at the Fereldan Embassy these days. The rooms he had at the Circle were more for show. He did sleep there on occasion, when his research had gone late and he was too exhausted to make the trek through the city, but mostly he slept in the Embassy, in Cullen’s room, in Cullen’s bed. Their relationship had had its ups and downs, including a fairly memorable – for all the wrong reasons – six month period when they’d barely seen or spoken to each other after a particularly vitriolic argument whose roots they’d eventually traced to Halward Pavus’ machinations, but it was stronger now than it had ever been. Cullen hadn’t thought it was possible to love someone as deeply as he did Dorian but he would never change a thing. He knew Dorian felt the same, though the man was still terrible as expressing it. That didn’t matter though. His actions always spoke louder than his words.

Cullen knew he could trace his foul mood of late to Dorian’s absence. He had left three weeks ago to visit his parents for the first time in almost a decade. He wouldn’t have gone at all except the invitation had come from Aquinea Pavus, not Halward. Dorian’s relationship with his parents was… fraught to say the least. Halward hadn’t _quite_ disowned Dorian but only because he had no other viable heir, not having an apprentice of any value or strength. But that didn’t mean Halward Pavus hadn’t done his best to interfere in their relationship and he knew Dorian hated him just as much for that as anything else.

Dorian’s relationship with his mother was a bit of a mixed bag. She had certainly been more affectionate and forgiving when he’d been younger but he’d been ten years old when he’d realised that she was doing that as yet another move in the interminable and occasionally vicious game she played with her husband. Trying to turn Dorian against his father had been a particular aim of hers. Yet, despite that, she had always been more forgiving and had on occasion expressed, inadequately and usually rather drunkenly, that she just wanted Dorian to be happy. Thus when she’d extended the invitation to Dorian and hinted that a truce might just be in the offing, Dorian hadn’t been able to throw it away. Even now, he still wanted his father’s approval and love.

In the three weeks Dorian had been away, he’d only had one letter. It had been a typical Dorian letter, full of complaints and snide comments and oblique affection. There had been nothing since that letter and Cullen was worried. And annoyed at himself for worrying. Dorian was a very strong and capable mage. He could certainly take care of himself. He was probably just caught up in the family drama and there was a fair chance the reason he hadn’t written was because he was on his way back, full of annoyance and anger at his father.

Cullen got to his feet and headed for the door. He should at least mend a few fences with the Embassy staff he’d growled at today. As the Ambassador had said when he first arrived, they were all pariahs here and they needed to stick together. Though Cullen was possibly less of a pariah than he had once been. His friendly relationship with the Tevinter Templars and certain private revelations he’d made to a select group of Knight-Commanders and Knight-Captains had garnered some interest back home and just recently he’d been offered a position as the new Knight-Commander of Kirkwall. Apparently the previous Knight-Commander, Meredith Stannard, had gone mad in some way not long ago and Kirkwall was in chaos because of her actions. 

He had to admit that the offer was tempting, albeit a bit surprising. It was nice to know he was held in high enough regard now to be offered a promotion to Knight-Commander but given the circumstances of his promotion to Knight-Captain and his current position, he wasn’t sure if the offer was genuine or if they were throwing rocks at him again. Either way, no matter how tempting the offer, he wasn’t going to make any decisions until he’d spoken to Dorian. 

Besides, from what they’d heard, the chaos in Kirkwall had spread across most of Southern Thedas. Mages and Templars were at each other’s throats and the Chantry had lost all control. Cullen had seen a lot of smug reactions in the Circle and other places and it did put a damper on any thoughts of triumphantly returning to the Order. He was hearing whispers that there wasn’t exactly an Order to return to and Kirkwall had a nasty enough reputation that Cullen wasn’t sure he had the capability to clean up _that_ mess.

He had just made amends with the last of the people he needed to speak to when he was accosted by one of the Embassy servants.

“Captain? There’s…” The man frowned, though Cullen was sure it wasn’t at him. “There’s a slave at the gates who wants to speak to you.”

Now Cullen knew the reason for the frown and he joined in. “Did he say about what?”

The servant shook his head. “No. He’s pretty jittery though.”

“I’ll go and speak to him,” Cullen said with a sigh.

He made his way to the gates of the Embassy where there was indeed a very nervous and jittery slave waiting for him. The young elf kept looking over his shoulder and jumping at every move the gate guards made. His eyes widened when he saw Cullen and he twitched as though he wanted to leap forward and grab hold of Cullen.

“Ser,” he said hurriedly. “I… I need to speak to you urgently, ser.” His eyes darted left and right towards the guards. “Um… privately, ser.”

Cullen blinked then nodded. “Of course. Come with me.”

He led the increasingly nervous slave into the Embassy and into one of the small reception rooms. He closed the door behind them and looked over at the elven slave.

“Alright. This is private. What’s wrong?”

The slave swallowed convulsively. “I… I can’t tell you the details, ser, but… but you need to be here tonight at midnight with Master Dorian’s belongings and your own. You both _must_ leave Tevinter tonight.”

The slave was holding out a piece of paper. Cullen took it and glanced at the writing on it. He read it again and his eyes widened.

“What? I’d have to leave immediately just to get there in time. What’s going on?” he demanded with a glare

The slave squeaked in fright and cowered and Cullen immediately backed off.

“It’s alright,” he said soothingly. “I’m not angry at you. Please tell me what this is about.”

“I can’t, ser,” the slave said in a quavering voice. “I was told to give you that note and tell you to be there at midnight with yours and Master Dorian’s belongings and that you were to leave Tevinter immediately. I was told nothing else.”

Cullen drew in a breath and dragged his temper under control. The slave was frightened enough as it was. He didn’t need to make it worse.

“Alright. Thank you. Go down to the kitchen and tell them I said to give you a meal before you head back.”

The elf’s eyes widened and he looked surprised. “Oh! Thank you, ser.”

Cullen watched the slave scuttle out of the room and spared a few muttered imprecations for the system of slavery in general. He then headed straight for the Ambassador’s office.

“What’s wrong?” the Ambassador said the moment he saw Cullen. 

“A slave came to give me this and tell me to be there tonight with Dorian’s things and that we needed to leave Tevinter,” Cullen said tersely.

Theodore gave Cullen a startled look. “What?”

“That’s all the slave knew,” Cullen said. “Something’s happened to Dorian. Something bad.”

“So it would seem,” Theodore said grimly. “Go. Take what you need including a couple of good horses from the stable. You can contact us later about the rest of your belongings.”

Cullen gave a sigh of relief. “Thank you, my Lord.”

Theodore waved him off with a small smile. “None of that. Just make sure Dorian’s alright. I like the lad.”

Cullen nodded and hurried back to his room. He spared enough time to shove clothes and a few other things for both himself and Dorian into some saddlebags then he headed down to the stables. He rarely rode while in Minrathous but he hadn’t lost the skill. It was a trial to keep his pace slow within the city but as soon as he hit the bridge, he kicked his horse into a fast canter, keeping a tight hold on the lead rein of the other horse.

He had to push the horses harder than he would have liked to make his destination in time and it was perhaps only a few minutes shy of midnight when he reined in his horse in front of the hut he’d been directed to. He dismounted and tied both horses to a nearby tree. He then headed for the hut, knocking on the door impatiently. The door was opened almost immediately by another slave, an older one this time, one who was far less nervous and even a touch angry.

“Knight-Captain Cullen Rutherford?” the slave asked, blocking the entrance.

“Yes,” Cullen said tersely, as he stripped off his gloves. “Where’s Dorian?”

The slave relaxed and stepped aside, his expression suddenly sad and worried. “In here, ser.”

Cullen strode inside and then came to a sudden horrified halt. The hut was small and consisted of just the one room. A bed sat to one side and Dorian was lying in the bed, either asleep or unconscious, and he was covered in blood. He was naked, covered by only a blanket from the waist down and another slave was washing him gently. He could see a wound in Dorian’s side that was bleeding sluggishly and another on his left arm that had stopped bleeding and was waiting to be bound in the bandages that were in a basket on the floor.

“Maker preserve us,” Cullen breathed. “What happened?”

“The Master…” The slave broke off and Cullen saw the anger on the elven man’s face. “The Master tried to use a blood magic ritual on young Master Dorian. Our Mistress stopped it and in the chaos sent us off with Master Dorian. She gave instructions that you were to take him far away from here.”

Cullen blanched as the meaning of those words sank in and then his anger flared. “What was he trying to do to Dorian?” he growled.

The slave did not look intimidated at all. In fact, he looked relieved and quietly pleased. “I don’t know, my Lord. I know nothing of magic and what little we heard of the argument did not make much sense. Our Mistress can be a little… incoherent when she is first in a rage. Coherency comes after the first edges of her anger have bled off.”

“Your… you work for Aquinea Pavus?” Cullen asked, his fingers twitching as he watched the other slave gently clean his lover.

The slave looked amused at his phrasing. “Yes, my Lord. We are her personal slaves. I am Havis and this is my wife, Lucinda. My son, Willem, was the one who brought the message to you.”

Cullen gave him a distracted smile and then he couldn’t hold himself back any longer. He headed over to the bed and dropped to his knees beside it. Lucinda gave him a small smile and moved enough to give him space. He brushed his hand through Dorian’s disordered hair and then gently brushed his moustache back into something resembling its normal shape. Dorian was very proud of the moustache he’d grown and spent inordinate amounts of time trimming it and keeping it looking perfect. Cullen thought it looked ridiculous but Dorian liked it so he’d always done little more than laugh.

This close, he could see that the blood had been painted onto Dorian’s skin in patterns, mostly glyphs and lines, and his expression darkened. Out of necessity he’d become more knowledgeable about blood magic than he would have really liked and these were classic signs of it. What in the Maker’s name had Halward Pavus been trying to do?

He examined the wounds on Dorian’s side and arm and frowned. “He fought?”

Lucinda nodded. “When our Mistress interrupted the ritual, he took up a knife and fought. He’d been stripped nude so he had little protection against the blows that came his way.”

“I taught him how to fight with a knife,” Cullen said absently and he continued to run his hand through Dorian's hair.

“You taught him well, my Lord,” Lucinda said with a nod. “He’d put two on the floor, injured or dead, I’m not sure, before our Mistress ordered us to get him out.” She finished cleaning off the last of the blood on Dorian’s chest. “Can you help me turn him over?”

Cullen nodded and they gently turned Dorian over onto his front. Cullen’s stomach clenched when he saw more of the glyphs painted onto the skin there and he clenched his hands into fists.

“I would have thought he’d have woken during that,” he said, his worry suddenly overwhelming his anger. “He’s a fairly light sleeper.”

“He’s unconscious,” Lucinda replied soothingly as she began gently washing the blood away. “He lost a fair bit of blood on the way here since we had to travel fast but he’ll be fine, my Lord. We’ll have to wake him soon though. You shouldn’t linger here too long.”

“I’ll go and look after the horses,” Havis said. “But Lucinda is right. You need to get moving.”

“His father will try again then?” Cullen asked. 

Lucinda nodded. “Our Mistress believed so, though she didn’t tell us why. Master Dorian may know more when he wakes.”

Cullen hesitated for a moment. “You could come with us. You and your husband and your son. You’d be free in Fereldan.”

Lucinda smiled at him and briefly cupped his cheek with one hand. “I do thank you for the offer, my Lord, but we must return. Our Mistress will wish to know that Master Dorian is safe and as far as Mistresses go, she is a good one. We are not badly treated.”

“Are you sure?” Cullen said. “Halward won’t be happy.”

“She will protect us as she always has,” Lucinda replied. “We are owned by her, not the Pavus estate.”

“I…” Cullen began but he was interrupted by a low moan from Dorian. “Dorian?”

“Amatus?” Dorian whispered, his eyes flickering open where his face was half-mashed into the thin pillow. “What…?”

“Havis and Lucinda sent for me,” Cullen said softly, sliding his fingers gently through Dorian’s hair.

Dorian frowned for a moment then he gasped and tried to move. He cried out in pain and grabbed at his side even as Lucinda and Cullen caught and steadied him. Cullen helped him sit up as Lucinda merely shifted around so that she could finish her job.

“It’s alright. You’re safe,” Cullen said, cradling Dorian’s face in both hands until his lover calmed.

“I… Father… he…” 

As Cullen watched, Dorian’s face crumpled and he collapsed against Cullen, burying his face between the collar of his coat and his neck as he began to quietly cry, making Cullen glad he hadn’t worn his armour. He hadn’t wanted to draw attention to himself. He wrapped his arms around Dorian’s shoulders and simply held him as wept. Dorian didn’t cry easily so whatever had happened was… bad.

Lucinda finished cleaning the blood off Dorian's back and picked up the bowl and sponge. She hurried out the door, sparing them a sympathetic glance as she went. Cullen gave her a nod and a smile then turned his attention to his lover. He ran his hand down Dorian’s back soothingly and pressed kisses against his hair and temple.

“What happened, love?”

Dorian’s breath hitched as he raised his head. Cullen gently brushed the tears away and kissed him, which caused Dorian’s face to crumple again as he all but climbed into Cullen’s lap.

“Dorian?” Cullen said, getting increasingly worried. He’d never seen Dorian like this before.

“My father tried to… _change_ me,” he said in a broken tone. “Mother was genuine about wanting to fix things between us but Father had only agreed so that he could get me there. He… he tried to do a blood magic ritual that would have changed me, made me _normal_.” He gave a bitter parody of a laugh. “Or it could have turned me into a vegetable. Apparently that was a risk he was willing to take to get his _perfect son_.”

Cullen’s breath caught in his throat and his arms tightened protectively around his lover. Of all the things he’d thought Halward Pavus would do, that wasn’t one of them. The man had always been consistent in his disdain for blood magic. From the way Dorian was trembling, he hadn’t expected it either.

“Bastard,” he whispered angrily then he drew in a deep breath and calmed himself. “I’ve brought some of your things with me and we can leave as soon as we get the wounds in your side and arm looked at.”

Dorian looked at him with surprise and concern. “But… Cullen… your job… you can’t.”

“I’ve already spoken to the Ambassador,” Cullen said. “He told me to get you out of here. We can sort out the details later.”

“Then please…” Dorian shuddered and clutched at Cullen’s jacket. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”

It took a few minutes to convince Dorian to let him go enough to quickly salve and bandage his wounds. He could do a better job later. For now, he just needed to get Dorian ready to go. As he saw to the wounds, Havis appeared silently with the saddlebags from the spare horse he’d brought with him. He nodded his thanks and pulled out some clothes for Dorian to wear.

“Here,” he said handing them over. “Get dressed and we can go.”

Dorian moved slowly and almost clumsily. Cullen was worried but he could see the exhaustion etched on Dorian’s face so he did little more than steady his lover and help him as much as he could. Once Dorian was dressed, he closed the saddlebags and slung them over his shoulder.

“Ready?”

Dorian nodded. “Absolutely.”

They headed outside to find Havis and Lucinda ready with the horses. Havis handed the reins of the horse he was holding and walked over.

“There is a small path that way.” He pointed towards the nearby forest. “You won’t be able to travel fast but it will keep you off the main roads. It leads to a small village which you should be able to reach by morning. Rest there and travel by night as much as possible. You should be safe enough wearing your sword and shield but your Templar armour will be noticed.”

“I have money with me,” Cullen replied. “I’ll buy more nondescript armour as soon as I can.”

Havis nodded. “Good.” He paused. “My wife told me of your offer and I thank you for it, Knight-Captain, but we must return.”

Cullen nodded reluctantly and suddenly felt Dorian leaning against him.

“Are you subverting my mother’s slaves?” Dorian said fondly.

Cullen wrapped his arm around Dorian’s waist, taking care to avoid the wound. “Yes. At least I’m trying.”

“Impossible man,” Dorian said, resting his forehead against Cullen’s chest for a moment before pulling away and heading over to the horse without saddlebags. He hesitated for a moment then turned to Havis. “Will you help me mount, Havis?”

The elf nodded and smiled. “Of course, Master Dorian.”

With Havis’ help, Dorian got into his saddle with a minimum of wincing and cursing then Cullen slung the saddlebags over the horse’s rump and secured them to the saddle. He placed his hand on Dorian’s thigh.

“Okay?”

“As much as I can be,” Dorian replied with a wan smile and a pat to Cullen’s hand. “Let’s just get out of here.”

Cullen nodded and quickly mounted his own horse. With a nod of thanks to Havis and Lucinda, they headed for the path the elf had pointed out. As the forest swallowed them, Cullen looked back to see the two elves hurrying off in the other direction.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A stopover in Kirkwall leads to an interesting meeting and an even more interesting offer. Once in Fereldan, Cullen needs to make a stop to put behind him a traumatic part of his life. Dorian is dubious about the merits of it all and just wants to find out what Felix is so frantic about.

Kirkwall was a mess, there was no doubt about it. The Chantry lay in ruins and great chunks of the building littered Kirkwall, leaving houses and businesses in ruins. There were many beggars in the streets and fewer of them were elves than might be expected. In fact, when they’d looked around the city, the alienage seemed to be in far better shape than expected. There was a young female elf, formerly Dalish from the tattoos on her face, who seemed to be nominally in charge but they noted that every things she did was backed up by strangely gentle street toughs and once or twice by a dwarf with no beard and a crossbow on his back.

They’d taken rooms in a dingy inn called the Hanged Man, reasoning that it was so decrepit that Halward Pavus would never believe his son would stay there. Indeed, Dorian was less than pleased to be there but he understood the necessity. Kirkwall wasn’t their first choice of destination but it was a port city and Dorian had received some unsettling news from Felix when they’d finally stopped for a time after their flight from Tevinter. Gereon Alexius was getting mixed up in something that Felix didn’t like and they were heading for Fereldan. It hadn’t taken much convincing for either Dorian or Cullen to follow.

“This was where they wanted you to take charge?” Dorian said dryly. “How delightful.”

“It certainly needs something,” Cullen replied with a shake of his head. “I should go and check in with the Order and see what’s going on.”

“And get roped in to helping?” Dorian looked at him fondly. “I know you, Amatus. Your bleeding heart would have you saying yes before you knew what you were doing.”

As Dorian spoke, the door to the tavern opened and the beardless dwarf with the crossbow they’d seen in the alienage – and indeed in the inn – walked in. He looked unsettled and grim but they didn’t pay much attention.

“I didn’t think it was this bad,” Cullen said, silently conceding the point to Dorian. He was a bleeding heart in many ways and he knew it. It would have been hard to say no to a genuine appeal. “The Templars I’ve seen looked demoralised and I’ve barely seen any mages at all.”

Dorian arched and eyebrow. “Wouldn’t they all be locked up in the Gallows?”

“Maybe,” Cullen said, looking disquieted. “But there always a little to and fro and I haven’t seen anything.”

Dorian gave him a look of fond amusement. “You’re not going to rest until you go and have a look, are you?”

Cullen grimaced. “I’m not sure if I should or I shouldn’t. We need to get to Fereldan and there’s not many ships leaving at the moment. If we miss one, we might have a long wait. Felix’s letter seemed urgent.”

“It was, in his low key Felix way,” Dorian replied. Felix had been a good friend to both of them over the years in Tevinter. Even after he’d left to go to the University in Val Royeaux, they’d still kept I contact and Felix had been a frequent guest at the Embassy when he’d been home. “But as long as you don’t intend to stick around, we could spare the time.”

Cullen considered it then shook his head with a rueful smile. “No. Let’s just get to Fereldan. You’re right. If they made an appeal to me, I’d find it very difficult to say no.”

Dorian shook his head with exasperation. “Given how they abandoned you and shipped you off to Tevinter, I wonder why the Order deserves your loyalty. They haven’t shown you much.”

“Maybe. I think that’s why I’d find it hard to reject an appeal.” He smirked a little. “Though I’m not sure they’d be prepared for what they were getting. I’m not the man I was back then and I’ve slipped my Chantry leash. They don’t know about that.”

“You never told them?” Dorian arched an eyebrow in surprise. “I thought you might have.”

“No, I didn’t see any reason to. Without the cause to doubt the Chantry, most of them would be up in arms about my attitude.” Cullen shrugged. “It would have made getting them to listen to me difficult.”

“Fair enough.” Dorian yawned and down the rest of what was in his tankard then he grimaced and coughed. “The swill in here is appalling so I am going to bed.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Join me?”

Cullen smiled and stood. “Always.”

The next morning they made their way down to the docks and secured passage on the next ship to Fereldan. They had enough time to pack their belongings and send a note ahead to Felix before they had to board. Cullen grimaced as he looked around their cabin. It was the largest one the ship had but it still made his skin crawl. He managed to largely put the events of Kinloch behind him but he still had trouble with enclosed spaces when he was uncomfortable and from his memories of the trip to Tevinter a decade ago, he was going to be uncomfortable. Sea voyages did not agree with him.

“I’m going to head up on deck.”

Dorian made a distracted noise from the bed where he was sprawled reading one of the books he’d picked up from a merchant in Lowtown. Cullen chuckled and kissed his temple before heading up to the deck. He found a quite spot and watched as the sailors cast off and they headed out to sea. They had passed through the gates of the Gallows when someone was not expecting came up on deck. He didn’t recognise the woman but he knew what that armour was. She was a Seeker of Truth. She saw him and came up to lean on the railings beside him.

“Seeker,” he said with a nod.

Her eyebrow went up at his recognition of who she was and she looked at him curiously. “You seem familiar.”

Now it was Cullen’s turn to be startled. “I…” He licked his lips. “I’m Knight-Captain Cullen Rutherford.”

He saw the faint recognition on her face. “You were assigned to Tevinter.” Her eyebrow went up as she looked at him and his distinct lack of Templar armour. He’d bought the armour he wore now at the first major town they’d reached after leaving Havis and Lucinda. It was nothing special but it was excellent quality and it had fit almost perfectly at the first try, needing only minor alterations that hadn’t taken long. He’d added the furred mantle once they’d reached the Free Marches, needing something to add a bit of warmth without impairing his sword or shield. Dorian said it looked ridiculous but Cullen had noticed that the mage liked snuggling into it at every opportunity when he was wearing it. “You are a long way from there. Are you on assignment?”

Cullen moved smoothly into the story they’d agreed upon when they were deciding how to explain their presence outside of Tevinter as well as Cullen’s ‘disguise’. “Ah, no. Family visit. My parents live in South Reach.”

“An interesting time to be visiting family,” the Seeker said, her expression dubious.

Cullen frowned. “We heard there’s been trouble and Kirkwall’s problems are obvious but I didn’t realise there’s worse.”

The Seeker sighed. “The Templars have left the Chantry and the mages have declared their freedom. The two sides are at war.”

Cullen gaped at her. “What?”

“You had heard nothing of this?” the Seeker said with a frown.

“No. I mean, we’ve heard rumours of trouble in the Order and with the mages but nothing like this.”

The woman seemed to make up her mind and she held her hand out. “I am Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast.” Cullen shook her hand with a nod and she continued. “May we speak? Perhaps below decks?”

Cullen winced. “Is it possible to stay up here? I don’t do well on ships and even less so when I’m in enclosed spaces.”

Cassandra nodded and looked around. She gestured to a space at the bow of the ship. “Perhaps there?”

Cullen nodded and they made their way into a more private space. There Cassandra explained about the mages vote for freedom and the shattering of the Nevarran accord and the effects it had caused – all-out war and the Chantry losing control. She also explained about the imminent Conclave that the Divine had called to attempt to negotiate for peace. Once she was done and Cullen had asked his questions, she eyed him curiously.

“We could use good men.”

Cullen looked surprised. “For what?”

Cassandra hesitated for a moment. “Most Holy hopes for the best but she prepares for the worst. She is quietly establishing a new Inquisition. Even if things go well, it is likely to be needed to clean things up. The Inquisition can use all the good people it can get.”

“I…” Cullen was torn. This sounded like something that was worth his while but the situation with Felix was important. “I’m, uh… committed to seeing my family and with this trouble you’ve told me about, I really do want to check on them but once that’s done, perhaps we can talk again?”

Cassandra smiled, though Cullen noticed it was a weary one. “Of course. We will be basing ourselves at Haven, near the Temple of Sacred Ashes. You are always welcome.”

Cullen was slightly dubious about that since if he did help, it would be with one, perhaps even two, Tevinter mages in tow. Admittedly Felix’s ability at magic was limited and far outstripped by his mathematical knowledge but he was still a mage.

The rest of the trip to Fereldan passed uneventfully enough. Dorian discovered he was an even worse seafarer than Cullen and spent most of his time in bed, trying to keep his stomach under control. Cullen spent a fair bit of time on deck as he discovered that his aversion to enclosed spaces was still triggered by ship cabins. He met Cassandra’s travelling partner on deck and it turned out to be the same beardless dwarf they’d seen in the Hanged Man in Kirkwall. Varric was less than enthusiastic about travelling to Haven but he was an entertaining companion nonetheless. Cullen was convinced most of his stories were exaggerations at best however. He didn’t care how creative this Garrett Hawke was, no one could get themselves into _that_ much trouble so regularly.

When they arrived at Gwaren, both Cullen and Dorian were heartily glad to disembark. Cullen had said his goodbyes to Varric and Cassandra the previous evening with the latter reminding him of the potential the Inquisition offered. By the time, he and Dorian got off the ship, the two were long gone.

“Making friends, eh, Amatus?” Dorian said, his mood restored greatly by their return to solid ground.

“I’ve never met a Seeker of Truth before,” Cullen said as they walked towards the horse vendors. “She wasn’t what I expected.”

“And this Inquisition she was talking about interests you.” Dorian chuckled at Cullen’s expression. “I know you too well, Amatus. It’s exactly the sort of thing that you like. A nice crusade on the side of right.”

“Well, maybe,” Cullen said with a rueful smile. “But Felix’s problem comes first.”

There was a pause in their conversation as Cullen haggled with the vendor about the horses and it didn’t pick up again until they were mounted and well clear of Gwaren.

“I’m worried about what we’re walking into,” Dorian admitted. “Felix was positively frantic in his own way and since it involves Gereon, well…”

Cullen nodded. Knight-Commander Galeria had been right. Gereon Alexius had turned out to be a good friend after their confrontation with Halward Pavus. He’d stood by Dorian and turned an amused blind eye to all the time he spent at the embassy. He’d even spoken to Dorian about the sticky problem of the Alexius inheritance. While Felix was a mage, he wasn’t very powerful. In Fereldan and probably everywhere else in the south, he’d likely have been made Tranquil. It made Cullen shudder at the thought. Felix was a kind, engaging young man who was bright and intelligent. It would have been a travesty to make him Tranquil just because he possessed minimal magical talent. He was well trained with what he had and in no danger of falling foul of demons or anything else.

The problem Felix had always faced was that while he could inherit his father’s title of Magister, he had so little magic that he’d be incredibly vulnerable to the machinations of the Magisterium and probably dead within a week. Cullen had discovered that inheritance in Tevinter among the noble families was a tricky business. Sons didn’t necessarily inherit from their fathers. If the son didn’t have the required magical ability then he could be overlooked for a strong apprentice and this was the situation in front of them. Felix didn’t have any objections to Dorian being his father’s heir since he knew Dorian would never leave him destitute. Dorian however was the sticking point. He was still objecting to disinheriting his first truly good friend. 

Adding to the problem was Felix’s illness. Five years ago, Felix and his mother had been travelling from Minrathous to their estate when they’d been attacked by some rogue darkspawn. No one knew where they’d come from but that hardly mattered. Gereon’s wife was dead and Felix was Blighted and there was nothing that could be done. Gereon had been devastated. He had originally been planning to travel with them but had changed his mind at the last moment due to some business with the Magisterium. He blamed himself for what had happened, believing that if he’d been there, he could have protected them and nothing anyone said could change his mind. He’d become obsessed with curing Felix and while Dorian had eagerly helped Gereon at first, they’d subsequently fallen out when Gereon started looking towards increasing dubious methods. Cullen suspected that whatever was wrong probably related to Gereon’s obsession and Felix’s increasing exasperation with it. Felix was fairly philosophical about the whole matter.

“Maybe we shouldn’t go straight into Redcliffe then,” he suggested. “We could make camp outside and I can go in.”

“You?”

“I’m Fereldan remember?” Cullen smirked. “I can blend in far easier than you.” He gave Dorian a once over that wasn’t at all lascivious. “You… stick out.”

“I am very handsome and debonair,” Dorian said with a grin. “Of course I stick out.”

Cullen snorted. “Anyway, I can go in and meet with Felix and get some idea of what’s going on and how we can both meet with him.”

“That should work,” Dorian said with a grimace. He didn’t like the idea of letting Cullen walk into an unknown situation on his own but he also didn’t want them to get into trouble before they had a chance to do anything. “So, how does it feel to be home?”

“Odd,” Cullen replied. “I’m glad we’re not going anywhere near South Reach.”

Dorian chuckled. He’d read the first letter Cullen had received from his family after he arrived in Minrathous. As it turned out Cullen hadn’t told his family either about what had happened to him or that he had been assigned to Tevinter. His sister Mia had been very displeased. He’d decided he liked her enormously and struck up a correspondence with her on his own, their shared love for Cullen uniting them very firmly. Cullen knew about this and was very long-suffering about it though Dorian suspected that he was secretly pleased that Dorian and Mia got along so well.

“It would take… what? Three months? Before we got free of your family’s clutches,” he teased.

“If we were lucky,” Cullen said with a laugh. He sobered. “Though if we have time, I’d like to stop in at the Circle. I’d like to speak to Knight-Commander Gregoir.” He caught the look on Dorian’s face and chuckled. “I know, I know but for all that he sent me off in disgrace, I don’t think it was out of malice. Besides, it was the Lord Seeker’s idea more than Gregoir’s and I’d like to let him know I’m okay.”

Dorian sighed. He’d never quite understood Cullen’s forgiveness to those who’d sent him off to what had to have been his worst nightmare instead of keeping him close and helping him.

“Very well. If I remember what was on the map, if we take the north road we can easily branch off to the Circle.” He shuddered. “You won’t mind if I skip that visit?”

“No, that’s fine,” Cullen said hurriedly. “In fact, it’s probably for the best. They… well, you’d confuse them.”

“That’s very diplomatic of you, Amatus,” Dorian said dryly.

Cullen arched an eyebrow at him. “Well, while you’re muttering imprecations at Gregoir, just think about this - if he hadn’t sent me to Tevinter, we wouldn’t have met.”

Dorian laughed. “How true. Oh, very well. I’ll forgive the Knight-Commander since he had the good taste to allow us to meet.”

Cullen grinned at him and the conversation turned to more mundane things. They made good time despite the obvious signs of trouble. With just the two of them, they were able to move quickly and between Cullen’s armour and sword and Dorian’s staff obviously on show, they were rarely troubled. It wasn’t long before they reached the Circle and Cullen crossed the lake to Kinloch Hold, pausing only to don his Templar armour.

He felt a shiver as the young Knight rowed him across and he quickly ran through a few mental exercises Tacita had taught him to calm his mind. Whatever he had been the last time he made this journey, he wasn’t that man anymore. The events of Kinloch Hold were in the past and they did not rule him.

He thanked the young Knight when they reached the other side and indicated he probably wouldn't be staying long. He then made his way inside and up to Gregoir’s office. It was strange walking the corridors where he had once been the barest of stripling Knights. He passed a few faces that were vaguely familiar but the numbers of both mages and Templars were very low. Obviously the war had taken its toll on the Circle but not everyone wanted to get involved. When he knocked on Gregoir’s door, he felt a pang of nostalgia at the familiar sound of the Knight-Commander’s voice.

“Knight-Commander,” he said with a short bow when he entered.

For a moment Gregoir stared at him blankly and then he saw the recognition flood across his face. Gregoir rose from his chair and came round the desk, one hand outstretched.

“By the Maker… Cullen!” They shook hands then Gregoir placed a hand on Cullen’s shoulder and gave him a searching look. “You look good, lad, and I owe you an apology.”

He waved for Cullen to sit in one of the armchairs beside the fireplace in his office and joined him there.

“There’s no apology needed, ser,” Cullen said.

“Yes, there is,” Gregoir said heavily. “I was at a loss as to how to help you and I let the Lord Seeker convince me to wash my hands of you. That was poor form and you deserved better.”

Cullen considered that. “Perhaps but I can’t say I regret going to Tevinter. In the long run, it’s been the best thing for me.”

“I’ve seen the reports you’ve sent,” Gregoir said, eying the man in front of him curiously. He remembered a slightly awkward young man who had held a great deal of promise who’d then been turned into an angry fearful man by what had happened to him. The Templar who sat in front of him now was calm and quiet yet clearly confident in his own mind and body. “You’ve certainly carved yourself a place there. What brings you back?”

“I can’t stay long,” Cullen said. “There’s some business that I need to take care of.”

“You’ve come back at a bad time,” Gregoir said.

“So I’ve noticed. Not everyone’s left though, I see.”

“The rebels left, both mage and Templar,” Gregoir said with a sigh. “The rest of us are safe enough here, given the only way in is by boat. The Templars have been summoned to Therinfal Redoubt by the Lord Seeker though. I’ve yet to decide what I’m going to do.”

“You can’t leave the mages here unprotected,” Cullen protested.

“I know.” Gregoir shook his head. “My intent is to stay but we’ll see how things go.”

They continued the conversation for a little while longer then Cullen took his leave. As he was rowed back across the lake, he looked back at the tower. He knew Dorian didn’t understand why he’d wanted to come here but he’d needed to put this place behind him. Wherever his future lay, he knew it wasn’t at Kinloch Hold. He’d suspected it for a while and this visit had confirmed it.

When they reached the shore, he thanked the young Templar and made his way back to their campsite. Dorian was waiting for him and gave him a searching look.

“You look calmer than I’d expected.”

Cullen began to unbuckle his armour. “I needed to know I could leave that place behind me. It has such bad memories attached to it. I needed to go back and show myself that those bad memories aren’t the sum of it.” He smiled wryly. “I’m not sure that made sense.”

“It did actually,” Dorian said thoughtfully. “You’ve never told me exactly what happened there…” He held up one hand. “And I’m not asking now. I know it was very bad. They do say facing your fears is a healthy thing to do.”

Cullen set his armour aside and sat down next to Dorian, drawing him into his arms as much for his comfort as anything else.

“It’s just a place again in my mind,” he said then he chuckled. “And you might like to know that Gregoir apologised to me.”

Dorian snorted. “I should hope so.” He leaned back into Cullen’s embrace. “Now to Redcliffe?”

“Now to Redcliffe.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen and Dorian arrive at Redcliffe and meet with Felix. The news is not good. Also there's this great big green hole in the sky.

They were about three days from Redcliffe when it happened. One moment they were riding along calmly, the next there was a mighty explosion that rattled the very ground they were standing on and set the horses to rearing and bucking in absolute panic. They managed to get them under control and then they saw it – the massive green hole in the sky.

“Fasta vass,” Dorian breathed. 

“What in the Maker’s name is that?” Cullen said shakily. It was magical, that much he knew, but what kind of magic could to _that_?

“I have no idea but it is not good.” Dorian shook his head and nudged his horse into motion again. “Come on. Let’s get going. I have a very bad feeling about that thing.”

Cullen nodded and they continued their journey. As they got closer to Redcliffe, they saw more and more signs of trouble and finally they were forced to sell their horses to a local farmer and continue on foot. They made camp not far from the gates of Redcliffe and Cullen changed into a simple tunic and breeches and headed inside. The first thing he noticed was that there were a lot of mages around and he eased his way close to a number of groups to hear what they were talking about. 

His eavesdropping had given him a great deal to think about and also his answer as to where he might find Felix and he insinuated himself into a group of people carrying supplies into Redcliffe Castle. He knew he was going to have to be careful as Gereon would easily recognise him if he saw him but his luck held and the first Tevinter he saw was Felix. The young man’s eyes widened when he saw Cullen and then he sauntered down and waved imperiously.

“You, man! Come here. I need a strong pair of arms.”

Cullen affected a slightly stupid expression and ambled over. “Yes, ser?”

“Come with me,” Felix ordered and Cullen obediently followed him into the castle and down a flight of stairs. Felix ushered him into a room and closed the door behind them.

“Thank the Maker. You’re here,” Felix said with open relief. “Where’s Dorian?”

“Outside the village,” Cullen replied. “We thought it would be better for me to do a quick recce first and get the lay of the land since I can blend in.” He paused. “Felix... did you know what Halward Pavus intended?”

Felix looked baffled. “Intended for what?”

Cullen relaxed. In general, Felix was about as good at lying as he was. “Halward Pavus tried to use blood magic on Dorian to… to change him.”

Felix paled even further and he sat down heavily. “He what?” His eyes widened. “Is Dorian alright?”

“His mother and some of her slaves got him out and got a message to me,” Cullen replied. “We’ve kind of had to leave Tevinter. Your message was forwarded to us in the Free Marches.”

Felix swallowed hard. “Well, I’m glad my message found both of you.” He shook his head. “I’m even gladder that you got him out. How’s he doing?”

“About normal,” Cullen said with a sad chuckle. “He’s largely ignoring it and finding new ways to insult Fereldan.”

Felix smiled. “That sounds about right.”

“What’s happening here?” Cullen asked. Dealing with what happened to Dorian was going to take time and right now they had neither the time nor Dorian’s willingness to face it.

Felix scrubbed his face with both hands. “I’d rather wait until Dorian can join us but the short version is that Father has joined the Venatori. We have to stop him.”

“Maker,” Cullen breathed. “How?”

“I have no idea,” Felix said wryly. “I’m hoping you and Dorian might have some ideas. I should be able to get out of the castle tomorrow morning. If you and Dorian can meet me in the Chantry, we should be able to talk undisturbed there. The sisters have all left.” He paused. “Make sure you come in through the entrance at the back. There’s a reason why the sisters have left.”

Cullen raised an eyebrow then nodded. “Alright. We’ll be there tomorrow.”

Felix led him to a side exit and he made his way back to their camp where he found Dorian pacing back and forth. When he saw Cullen, he hurried over and grabbed his arms.

“Are you alright?”

Cullen nodded and took the opportunity to lean in for a kiss. “I’m fine, Felix is frantic and Gereon has joined the Venatori.”

Dorian stared at him blankly for a moment then his expression crumpled into one of disappointment and dismay. “He’s joined the Venatori? Why?”

“Felix wanted to wait until we could both be there before he told us.” Cullen cupped the side of Dorian’s face to offer what comfort he could. He knew that the news of his mentor’s defection to the strange cult that had been growing in Tevinter in the last half a year or so would devastate him. “Tomorrow morning, in the Chantry.”

Dorian nodded and closed the gap between them, wrapping his arms around Cullen and essentially snuggling into his embrace.

“Why would Gereon do that?” he said with distress.

Cullen sighed. “Because Felix is dying and Gereon is desperate. He doesn’t want to lose his son.”

Dorian tensed and he tightened his embrace. He didn’t need Dorian to speak to know what was going through his lover’s mind. Here was Gereon doing desperate, terrible things in order to save his son while Halward Pavus did desperate, terrible things to try and destroy his son. He pressed a kiss against Dorian’s temple and sighed.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s eat and then get some rest.”

Dorian nodded and allowed himself to be steered back to the camp. The next morning when they made their way to Redcliffe, they found the main gates barred by a strange green rift that became active and spat out demons any time anyone got near it. They immediately backed off and came into Redcliffe via one of the rather precarious back roads. By the time they reached the rear of the Chantry, Felix was already waiting for them inside.

“You saw the rift at the gates?” Felix said without preamble.

“Yes, what caused it?” Dorian asked.

“The hole in the sky. The Breach, they’re calling it.” Felix shook his head. “I don’t know what’s happening but the Breach is causing those rifts to pop up everywhere, including here in the Chantry.”

“What?” Cullen said. He started to head towards the main part of the building but Felix caught his arm.

“Don’t. You’ll set it off and we’ll be dealing with demons. We’re fine as long as we stay back here.”

Dorian frowned as they all backed off towards the rear door. “Felix, what in the Maker’s name is going on?”

“I wish I knew,” Felix said wearily. “Father went off to a meeting several months ago and came back talking about how he’d met someone who had promised to cure me.” He shook his head. “There was nothing I could say that could shift him or get him to tell me the details. All he’d say was that he’d found someone who could help. Next thing I know there’s Venatori people in and out of the house and Father’s getting mixed up in some huge event that was supposed to happen here in Fereldan. He largely kept me out of it so I don’t have a lot of details.”

Felix swallowed hard. “But Dorian… that’s not the worst of it. That research you and he were working on? The time magic?”

“What of it?” Dorian said. “We could never get it to work.”

“Father has,” Felix replied. “I don’t know how. All I know is that we were here for a while then Father pulled us back to a place not far from Denerim. I’d left a message for you with the innkeeper to catch up with us there. Then that explosion occurred and a few days later, Father rousted us all up and used that amulet you were both working on. Then we were here again, except it was just a few hours after the explosion.”

“ _What_?” Dorian looked shocked. “Time _and_ place displacement?”

Felix nodded. “He spun some story to Fiona, the leader of the rebel mages, and next thing I know, she’s signing the mages over to Father in indentured servitude and we’re chasing the Arl and most of the villagers away. Now Father’s just waiting.”

“For what?” Cullen asked. He could see Dorian was having trouble processing all of this so he took the opportunity to ask the question.

“Not what, _who_ ,” Felix said. “There’s this group called the Inquisition that’s active in the area. Has been since just after the explosion. They’ve got someone who can close the rifts who they’re calling the Herald of Andraste. A young woman called Tegan Trevelyan according to the spies. Father thinks that the Inquisition and their Herald will come here but I don’t know what he has planned for her. I just know it can’t be good.”

“Herald of Andraste?” Cullen frowned. “Seeker Pentaghast didn’t say anything about that.”

Felix looked surprised. “You know about the Inquisition?”

“Sort of,” Cullen replied. “We travelled on the same ship as Seeker Pentaghast and I spoke to her a bit. She tried to recruit me but she said nothing about a Herald.”

Felix shook his head. “She wouldn’t have. From what we’ve been able to learn, the Herald survived the explosion. She fell out of a rift and has a mark on her hand that she can use to close the rifts. I don’t know whether that’s why Father wants to get his hands on her but she’s definitely the one he wants.”

“We can’t allow that,” Cullen said firmly.

“I know,” Felix replied. “The best I can do is keep an eye out and let you know when the Herald arrives. If you can stay close to the Chantry, we can arrange to meet in here with her.”

“Do you think you could get me copies of your father’s notes?” Dorian asked. “I didn’t have time to bring mine with me but if I can see what he’s been doing, I may be able to work out what he’s planning for this Herald.”

Felix looked dubious. “I’ll see what I can do but he’s been very secretive.”

There was a bang from the front of the Chantry that made them all jump and Felix looked around.

“I’d better get back before Father comes looking for me. He’s getting over-protective.”

Cullen and Dorian exchanged quick glances. They could see why Gereon might be getting over protective. Felix had looked unwell ever since he’d been Blighted but these days he looked grey and drawn with heavy black bags under his eyes. Gereon had managed to slow the progress of the Blight but he couldn’t stop it and its progress was inexorable.

“We’ll move our camp closer to this side of the village,” Cullen said. “Hopefully this Herald won’t be long.”

They parted then and Dorian and Cullen returned to their camp, packed and relocated. Once they were settled into their new location, Dorian sighed.

“Indentured servitude.” He shook his head. “What fools.”

“There’s not much difference between that and slavery,” Cullen said with distaste. He’d learned about the intricacies of that in Tevinter. Technically indentured servitude _wasn’t_ slavery but that was only if the Magister in question held to the spirit of the deal, which was rare. Usually it was just used as a façade to cover the true nature of the deal – slavery by another name.

“I know and the damn fools probably think they’re getting a good deal.”

Cullen frowned. “It’s odd though. You don’t get to be Grand Enchanter if you’re an idiot, so how did Gereon talk this Fiona into it?”

Dorian considered the matter. “He could have used magic to manipulate her but if she’s a mage, that’s not as easy as you might think.”

“Blood magic?” Cullen asked after a moment’s hesitation.

Dorian sighed and ran a hand down his face. “I hope not. I’d rather not have _Gereon_ let me down on that score as well.”

This was running very close to a line that Cullen wasn’t sure Dorian wanted to cross but he had to try anyway.

“Dorian…?”

“No.” Dorian held up one hand, his face closed and tight. “I… I know we’ll have to talk about it at some point but… not now. I’m not… I can’t do it here or now.”

Cullen shifted over and pulled Dorian into his arms. The mage came willingly and tucked his head almost under Cullen’s chin. Cullen frowned a little. He’d noticed that since they’d left Tevinter, Dorian had been a little more… clingy than normal. Not when there was a chance of other people being around, then he was his usual self, but when they were alone, he was more eager to seek comfort than he usually was. He supposed it was understandable given what his father had tried to do and the Maker knew he didn’t mind but it did make him worry a little at how much his father’s betrayal was eating away inside him.

“There’s not much more we can do now except wait,” he said with a sigh.

“And hope that Gereon comes to his senses,” Dorian replied.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They meet with the Herald of Andraste and then head to Haven. Where Cullen is wise enough to make amends with the Seeker.

It was nearly a week before they received word from Felix that the Herald and her party were approaching Redcliffe and that Felix was going to try and slip a message to them. They made their way into the Chantry to find that the rift was far more active than it had been and the moment they crossed the mid-point of the vestry room, they heard it open and then the distinctive sound of demons. 

They exchanged exasperated glances but they had come armed and, in Cullen’s case, armoured, so they dashed out into the Chantry itself and took on the demons. What they hadn’t realised was that once active, the rift would keep spewing out demons and by the time the doors to the Chantry opened and a small group of four walked in, Dorian had been reduced to belting the demons with his staff while Cullen was strictly on the defensive.

“Ah, good. You’re here,” Dorian said, relief making his voice waver a fraction. “Help us close this rift.”

For a moment the newcomers simply stared then the red-haired woman in the front tossed a vial of blue liquid to Dorian and unlimbered her bow. The rift convulsed and spat out more demons and then there was no more time for talking. It took another round of demons after that one before the rift reached a point that seemed to satisfy the woman and she abruptly held up her left hand to reveal a glowing green mark. The action of raising her hand connected the mark to the rift and after a moment’s effort, she closed the rift.

“How do you do that?” Dorian said with fascination then continued before the woman could answer. “You don’t know, do you? Just raise your hand and boom! Rift closed.”

Cullen recognised the signs of exhaustion in his lover and he sheathed his sword and placed his hand on Dorian’s shoulder.

“Dorian,” he said quietly. 

Before anyone else could say anything, Cassandra stepped forward. “Visiting South Reach, are you, Knight-Captain?” she said with a mix of exasperation and irritation.

Cullen ducked his head momentarily and rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah, yes… well, the situation was complicated.”

“Tevinter magisters and weird changes to the rifts does seem a little complicated,” the red-haired woman said with an arched eyebrow. “So… does someone want to tell me what’s going on here? Where’s Felix?”

“He’ll be here,” Dorian said. “He’s probably having trouble shaking his father. But introductions do seem to be in order. I am Dorian of House Pavus, recently of Minrathous. This handsome fellow is Knight-Captain Cullen Rutherford, normally the Fereldan Liaison to the Templar Order of Tevinter.”

“Tegan Trevelyan,” the red-haired woman said, looking faintly amused. “They call me the Herald of Andraste, for what it’s worth.”

“Dorian.”

They turned to see Felix approaching from the rear of the Chantry.

“Ah, there you are, Felix. What took you so long?” Dorian said.

Felix gave them a wry look. “I shouldn’t have played the illness card. It took forever to get Father to leave me alone.”

“So I gather I’m going to get an explanation for all this hush-hush clandestine stuff?” Tegan said, raising an eyebrow. 

Felix gave a faint smile. “My father’s joined the Venatori and for some reason, they want you, Herald. Specifically.”

“Well, I knew I was a woman in demand but really, this is just too much,” Tegan said wryly.

“He could have just sent you a fruit basket if he admired you so much,” Dorian quipped.

Tegan shot him a look of suppressed mischief and Cullen was tempted to groan. When he glanced over, Felix had a faint ‘give me strength’ look on his face as well.

“You have to have noticed the changes in the rifts,” Felix said to the Herald. “Those strange circular fields that grow around them.”

She nodded. “Bit hard not to after I ended up caught in one of them. Ended up feeling like I was moving through treacle.”

“Areas of temporal instability,” Dorian said in a far more academic tone. “It should be impossible. Alexius and I have been working on time magic for years but we never managed to get it to work. But now he has and I don’t know how.”

“That’s how we got here so quickly,” Felix added. “Father used this time magic to get us here well before the Inquisition ever could.”

“You got here just after the explosion at the Conclave from what we’ve heard,” Tegan said. “And stole the mages from under our noses.”

“Though what Alexius wants with a couple of hundred mages is beyond me,” Dorian muttered.

Felix nodded. “Father doesn’t want the mages. He wanted your attention, Herald. He’s going to extend an invitation to you for further negotiations. It’s a trap.”

“Of course it is,” Tegan said with a sigh.

“We could still go after the Templars,” Cassandra said. 

Tegan frowned. “No, I think this might be a priority, Cassandra. I don’t think we really want a Magister swanning off with a couple of hundred mages, no matter what his purpose is. I don’t think it’ll end well for us.”

“I can’t linger,” Felix said. “I don’t want Father to miss me and start a search.”

“And we can’t stay much longer either,” Cullen said, placing a hand on Dorian’s shoulder.

“True,” Dorian said. “Alexius doesn’t know we’re here and I’d like to keep it that way.” He arched an eyebrow at the Herald. “But if you’re going after him, Cullen and I would like to be there.”

Tegan gave them both a long look then nodded. “Meet us in Haven and we’ll discuss how we’re going to do this.”

They quickly dispersed and Dorian and Cullen made their way back to their campsite and began packing.

“How much trouble are you in with that Seeker?” Dorian asked with amusement.

Cullen chuckled. “I don’t know but I’m sure I’ll find out when we get to Haven.”

The mage snickered and continued with his work. Once they were packed they made their way through the Hinterlands and up into the Frostbacks until they found the village of Haven. It appeared that the Herald and her party had beaten them back as the guards were aware of who they were as they were quickly escorted to the Chantry and from there to the room where the Herald was meeting with the Inquisition’s leadership. 

As they approached the door, they could hear part of the debate going on about the inaccessibility of Redcliffe Castle and the possible machinations of Alexius and Dorian simply barged in, Cullen following in his wake with wry amusement.

“Then it’s just as well you’ll have us.”

Tegan turned and grinned at the two of them while Cassandra gave them a suspicious glare from beside her. Across the other side of the table were three people, who were giving them varying looks of surprise, calculation and suspicion.

“About time you two turned up,” the Herald said.

“It’s a fair trip on foot,” Cullen replied, taking up a position to Dorian’s right. The man on the other side of the table had the bearing of a Templar and it was making him a bit twitchy.

“Good point,” Tegan said. “Right, well, introductions. I think you’ve already met Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast, Right Hand of the late Divine.”

“Cullen has. I was indisposed,” Dorian said a little sourly. Cullen chuckled and Dorian levelled an arch look at him. “And no comments from you, Knight-Captain I’ll-stand-on-deck-for-the-entire-trip Rutherford.”

“Now that sounds like a story,” Tegan said. “Anyway, this is Ambassador Josephine Montilyet, Sister Leliana, Left Hand of the Divine and our Spymaster and Commander Carver Hawke, who is in charge of the Inquisition’s army.”

Dorian gave a small bow. “Dorian Pavus of the Minrathous Circle.”

Cullen nodded. “Knight-Captain Cullen Rutherford, assigned to Tevinter to act as liaison to the Templar Order there.” He could see the look Leliana was giving him and he knew why. He recognised her. She’d been with Solona Amell when she’d come back to the Circle and freed him. He decided to circumvent any potential awkwardness. “Sister Leliana. It’s a pleasure to meet you again under far better circumstances.”

He saw the tiny flash of surprise on her face and guessed that she hadn’t expected him to acknowledge what had happened. However his years in Tevinter and more importantly his years with Dorian had done a great deal to help him overcome the horrors he’d faced in the Circle. His recent visit to Kinloch had knocked a few more bogeymen on the head.

“Indeed it is,” Leliana replied. “You look far better than you did then.”

“You two know each other?” Dorian said with surprise.

Cullen nodded and smiled slightly. “We met very briefly at the Circle here in Ferelden during the Blight. I… wasn’t very well at the time.”

“But you are now?” Leliana asked rather pointedly.

Cullen looked at Dorian then smirked at her. “I’d say so. They sent me to Tevinter to get rid of me but I found my footing and more there.”

“So it seems,” Leliana said with a sudden warm smile. “Sometimes the Maker sends us on unexpected paths, Cullen, but they can often be the very ones we need to walk.”

“Very cryptic,” Tegan said. “Someday I’m going to want an explanation for that.”

“I wouldn’t mind speaking with you later,” Commander Hawke said with a nod to Cullen. “I’m the former Knight-Captain of the Kirkwall Templars.”

Cullen looked surprised. “We passed through Kirkwall on our way to Ferelden. It looked… bad.”

“It was.” Carver’s expression was tight with pain and regret. “But… later.”

Cullen nodded. “Of course.”

Tegan was giving them all exasperated looks. “Alright. Now that we’ve discharged all our social duties, can we get back on topic?”

Everyone exchanged glances and wry smiles then Carver cleared his throat.

“Redcliffe Castle is the most fortified castle in Ferelden, Herald. It’s stood against everything that’s ever been thrown at it. If you go there and something goes wrong, we won’t be able to get you out.”

“Not necessarily,” Leliana said slowly. “There is a secret entrance for the family to use in case of danger. We could sneak people in that way.”

“It’s too risky,” Carver said. “We wouldn’t be able to send soldiers so your agents would be vulnerable.”

“Unless everyone’s attention was directed somewhere else,” Josephine suggested.

“You mean give this Magister what he wants?” Carver frowned. “It might well work but it’s risky.”

“It’s a risk, yes,” Cullen said. “But we know Alexius. He’s not a raving lunatic so he’s not going to attack out of hand.”

“Herald?” Carver said, raising an eyebrow at Tegan.

Tegan looked thoughtfully. “I take it the two of you are going to want to come with me?” she said to Dorian and Cullen.

Dorian nodded. “Alexius was my mentor and he has been a friend to us both. There is a small chance we might be able to talk him down. Besides, your scouts won’t be able to get past Alexius’ wards and traps without me.”

Tegan nodded. “Alright. Let’s go give this Magister what he wants. Dorian and Cullen will guide Leliana’s people inside and I’ll take… Cassandra and Solas with me.”

There were nods all round and Cullen and Dorian made arrangements to leave much of their gear at Haven, taking only what they absolutely needed on their return to Redcliffe. After the meeting broke up, Josephine herself showed them to a room in the Chantry they could use and then left them to their own devices. It had been agreed that they would leave in the morning and the Herald and her party would follow them the next day.

Dorian sat down heavily on the bed and sighed. “Do you think we’ll be able to talk Gereon down?”

“I hope so,” Cullen said as he pulled off his armour. “I know he’s desperate to find a cure for Felix but this is not the way to do it.”

Something miserable flickered across Dorian’s face. Cullen set his armour aside and sat down next to him.

“Dorian?”

The mage leaned into him and turned his face into Cullen’s neck. “Why…?” 

He didn’t seem able to continue but Cullen could guess the general tenor of the question – why had his father and father-figure both let him down so badly?

“We’ll stop him,” he said quietly.

Dorian nodded and Cullen gently rubbed his back. When Dorian began to slump against him a bit more, Cullen chuckled and encouraged him to lie down.

“Get some sleep, love. I’m going to find the Seeker and make some amends there then see what the Commander wants.”

“You just want to go play soldier,” Dorian murmured.

Cullen laughed. “It has been a while.”

He picked up his sword and strapped it to his waist but he left his armour and shield behind. He didn’t really need them but it was sheer force of habit that had him take his sword. Once outside it wasn’t difficult to find the Seeker. She was beating up a training dummy near where Commander Hawke was overseeing the new recruits. Once she realised he was there, she stopped and beckoned him over.

“Knight-Captain,” she said with an arched eyebrow.

“I came to apologise for lying to you,” Cullen said. “Dorian and I were trying to keep our true reason for being here quiet until we had a chance to speak to Felix.”

Cassandra inclined her head in acceptance. “The Order is still under the impression you are in Tevinter.”

Cullen winced. “I… thought as much. We had to leave rather quickly due to a… a personal matter involving Dorian. The Fereldan Ambassador is aware of the situation.”

Cassandra gave him a searching look but when he showed no signs of yielding on the subject, she nodded again.

“We can arrange for lyrium to be provided to you while you are working with us,” she said briskly.

Cullen hesitated. He’d passed on a number of things about the Templar Order in Tevinter to a small group of more open-minded Knight-Commanders and Knight-Captains in Fereldan and Orlais but one thing he had not passed on had been the fact he no longer took lyrium. It was something he didn’t think he could explain in a letter and the implications regarding the Southern Chantry had the potential to be somewhat… explosive.

But this was a Seeker of Truth and if she couldn’t know about this then who else could? Seekers were as human as anyone else but they were dedicated to the truth rather than any one opinion and from what he’d learned about Cassandra on the ship, she was not in any danger of being corrupted by anyone.

“That… won’t be necessary,” he said calmly. “I no longer take lyrium.”

The look Cassandra gave him was sharp but it was also full of curiosity. “No? Then your abilities?”

“Are as strong as ever,” Cullen replied. “Possibly even stronger than they were when I was using the crutch of lyrium.”

The look of barely concealed interest and hope on Cassandra’s face surprised Cullen. He’d expected to be questioned and maybe viewed with suspicion or perhaps worry but that Cassandra actually seemed intrigued was not exactly the way he’d thought this would go.

“May I see this?” she asked.

Cullen looked around. “Uh… here?”

Cassandra nodded. “You are right. This is perhaps best not done with an audience. There is an area we can use around the other side of Haven.”

“Then… lead the way,” Cullen said.

“Lyrium withdrawal is not an easy thing to endure,” Cassandra observed as they walked past the practising soldiers.

Cullen snorted. “No, it isn’t. Thankfully there are potions in Tevinter that can help with that.”

“Do you still suffer the symptoms?”

“Sometimes,” Cullen admitted. “Headaches and body aches mostly. Dorian’s very skilled at making the potions that help with that.”

Cassandra looked at him curiously. “I reacquainted myself with the information we have about you. I will admit that I am surprised to see you so… friendly with a mage.”

Part of Cullen wanted to know just how much information they actually _had_ about him while another part was amused at Cassandra’s rather delicate wording.

“I’ll admit… when I went to Tevinter I thought it would be a living nightmare,” Cullen said quietly. “I thought it would be everything I feared about mages at the time and more. There are certainly mages there who misuse their magic but I also found friends and, in Dorian, someone who loved me and whom I love in return.” He shrugged. “And frankly, between what I learned with the Templar Order there and what Dorian, Felix and other mages have shown me, I think I have a more balanced view of magic and its dangers than I ever did, even before Kinloch fell.”

“You think Tevinter handles mages better?” Cassandra arched an eyebrow.

“I think they do things _differently_ ,” Cullen replied. “Some things they do better, some things they do worse. I don’t know what the perfect solution is. In fact, I doubt there is one. But I do know now that we… mistreat mages here.”

Cassandra sighed and her shoulders slumped. “I know. I had been gathering information for the Divine on that very matter when things went from bad to utter chaos. The Conclave was meant to be the first step in finding some better ways of handling magic and mages.”

“What happened? We saw the result of the explosion but we were staying out of sight mostly so we didn’t really get to talk to anyone other than Felix.”

“We don’t know.” Cassandra made a frustrated sound. “The Herald was there but she remembers nothing about what happened.” They had reached a small clearing and Cassandra nodded to him. “Shall we?”

Cullen looked around and drew his sword. He set himself then with a shout, launched into the Spell Shatter. It was strong and steady and when he straightened, it was with a sense of satisfaction. It had taken a great of practise and training to produce the abilities he’d learned without lyrium. Galeria had called it breaking his conditioning. He hadn’t liked that phrasing but he also couldn’t deny it was probably correct.

“Remarkable,” Cassandra said. “And you take no lyrium at all?”

“Not for ten years, no,” Cullen replied. “The Templars in Tevinter were appalled at the very idea. They helped me with the withdrawal and the retraining of my abilities.”

“ _That_ wasn’t mentioned in any of your reports,” Cassandra said dryly.

Cullen chuckled. “I may have left that bit out. I wasn’t sure I knew a way to explain it that didn’t… put the Chantry in a poor light.”

Cassandra fixed him with an arch look. “Would it have mattered if it did?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

Cassandra continued to stare at him but Cullen had faced down Magisters in his time so he continued to meet her stare until she finally huffed and gave him an approving look.

“Perhaps it would but it would still have been worth knowing,” she said. “The Templars have abandoned the Chantry.”

“I’d heard that.” Cullen frowned. “Why?”

“There were many reasons, some good, some not,” Cassandra replied. “And some were political power plays. Now, the Templars have withdrawn to Therinfal Redoubt under the orders of Lord Seeker Lucius.”

Cullen grimaced. “I’m sure he’ll forgive me if I decline that honour.”

“Does that mean we can tempt you to join the Inquisition?” Cassandra looked faintly amused.

“That will depend on what happens in Redcliffe.” Cullen shook his head sadly. “I only hope we can stop it without any bloodshed.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen and Carver bond and Cullen is reminded that not everything about being a Templar in the south is bad.

Cullen spent nearly an hour with Cassandra, discussing various matters and displaying his abilities. He then returned to the practise field and waited for the Commander to finish with the discussion he was having with a scout. Once the scout ran off, Cullen made his way over.

“Commander Hawke.”

The Commander grimaced. “I’m still getting used to that. Call me Carver.”

Cullen chuckled. “I know how you feel. My promotion to Knight-Captain was more one of political expediency than because I’d really earned it. I kept looking over my shoulder to see who they were talking to at first. So, please, call me Cullen.”

Carver eyed him curiously. “You’re the one they were trying to get to replace Meredith as Knight-Commander of Kirkwall.”

“I am,” Cullen replied. “Though, to be honest, I wasn’t really sure I wanted the job, for any number of reasons, so I hope you don’t feel I was stepping on your toes.”

Carver shook his head. “I stepped up into her role because I had to, not because I really wanted it. I’d been getting pretty disillusioned with the Order as it was. The only reason I stayed was because my brother is an apostate and Meredith had some idea that I could control him and that meant I could keep the dogs off him. That’s why she promoted me, even though I had openly disagreed with her on occasion.”

“It sounds like it was a difficult situation.”

“It was,” Carver said heavily. “My brother was pretty pissed at me when I joined the Templars but I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life swinging my sword for mercenaries or for a few meagre coins. I wanted to do something meaningful and the Order at least had a purpose. I didn’t agree with everything they did but…” He shrugged. “I figured if I ever decided to do something about that, it would be easier to try and change the system from within than without.” He hung his head a little and smiled wryly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to get on my soap box.”

Cullen chuckled. “Don’t apologise. I actually understand perfectly. I wanted to be a Templar because I wanted to protect people, both mages and the common people. Unfortunately, everything got rather thrown into chaos when the Fereldan Circle fell and…” He shook his head. “As strange as it sounds, the Maker only knows how badly I would have ended up if they hadn’t sent me to Tevinter.”

“That _does_ sound pretty strange,” Carver said with a sudden grin. 

“Tevinter… wasn’t what I expected it to be,” Cullen said. “Well… in some ways it is but in a lot of other ways it’s not.”

“Is that what the Seeker was grilling you about?” Carver asked.

Cullen hesitated and looked at Carver curiously. The man had implied he’d left the Order and he certainly wasn’t wearing the armour, instead choosing to wear plain but well-made armour with the Inquisition logo emblazoned on it. 

“No, not exactly,” he said slowly. “She was curious about the fact that I no longer take lyrium but can still use the Templar abilities. She wanted me to prove it basically.”

Carver stared at him in disbelief. “You don’t take lyrium?”

Cullen shook his head. “Not for ten years now.”

“But you can still use our abilities?”

Cullen nodded. “Probably better than I could with lyrium if I’m honest.”

“ _How_?” Carver was almost plaintive in his question. “I… I thought about giving up lyrium but it’s dangerous and I couldn’t take the risk after agreeing to become the Inquisition’s Commander.” He grimaced. “I’ve seen what happens to Templars when they get kicked out and can’t get easy access to lyrium. It’s not pretty.”

“It’s unpleasant, I’ll give you that,” Cullen replied. “But there are potions that can reduce both the danger and the symptoms of the withdrawal. They can’t get rid of them but they make something dangerous into something that’s only unpleasant.”

Carver frowned as he thought. “These potions? Are they…? Do you know how to make them?”

“I don’t but Dorian does,” Cullen replied. “He makes them for me.” He hesitated. “It’s not a magic solution, Carver. It is possible to get off lyrium but you’ll still feel the effects of the withdrawal for years, maybe for the rest of your life.”

Carver looked at him for a moment and chewed on his bottom lip. “Would I still be functional?”

“The first two or three weeks will be bad,” Cullen said with a grimace. “But after that it’s bearable. You can endure it anyway.”

“Isn’t that what we do?” Carver said with a snort. “Endure?”

Cullen gave him a wry look. “That’s what we’re told.”

Carver chewed on his lip again. “Let me think about it. It’s probably not a good time to make a decision anyway, not with all of you going to Redcliffe.”

“I’ll make sure Dorian writes down the information about the potions before we leave tomorrow,” Cullen said. “I’m not sure what we’ll be doing after we deal with Gereon.”

Carver frowned. It looked like a natural expression for him. “You’re not staying?”

“I honestly don’t know.” Cullen looked around a little wistfully. “I’d like to and I suspect Dorian would as well.” He grinned briefly. “This is a good cause. But it’s up in the air until we figure out what’s happening with Gereon and Felix.”

Carver looked around at the recruits training nearby and sighed. “I’d like you to stay. Maker knows I could do with more experienced people.”

Cullen laughed. “I’d noticed they looked a little green.”

“I’m not going to turn them away but half of them don’t seem to know which end to hold the damn sword,” Carver said with exasperation.

“Have a heart, Carver,” Cullen said, still grinning. “You were like that once as well.”

Carver looked irritated for a moment then gave a huff of a laugh. “Yeah, I know. But we didn’t have a great big hole in the sky back then.” He looked a little sour. “I suppose I did have my brother though.”

Cullen gave Carver a curious look. “We heard some stories about your brother on the trip from Kirkwall to Gwaren.”

“From Varric, eh?” Carver said, rolling his eyes. “Let’s just say Varric’s not the sort of person to let a good story sit on its own merits.”

Cullen chuckled. “I did get that impression. He tells a good tale though.”

“That he does,” Carver said. The sour note had returned. “He certainly made my brother look larger than life.”

“Maybe.” Cullen shrugged. “But your brother isn’t the Commander of the Inquisition’s forces.”

Carver was silent for a moment then the sour expression on his face faded away and he smiled wryly. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry. It wasn’t the easiest thing growing up in Garrett’s shadow.”

“It looks to me that you’ve done alright.”

Carver straightened a bit more and Cullen smothered a smile. He’d come across truculent younger brothers back when he was a trainee and he’d seen that the same sort of thing happen with mages when he was in Tevinter. It made him wonder if he’d ever made Branson’s life difficult. He doubted it. Bran had been so young when he left for the Templars.

Carver shook his head. “Yeah, I have.” He snorted. “You know Cassandra wanted my brother to lead the Inquisition.”

“Really?” Cullen raised an eyebrow. “Is that why she was in Kirkwall?”

“She questioned me first and I told her to go and pester Varric.” Carver rolled his eyes. “I joined the Templars when my brother ran off to the Deep Roads and didn’t really get involved with him again until everything went to hell so Varric was her best bet for information, not me. I was kind of surprised when Cassandra came back and asked me to join the Inquisition. At first I thought she was just taking second best since she couldn’t find Garrett but when she said it was to command the army…” He smiled wryly. “My brother wouldn’t know what to do with an army.”

“You did the extra classes in strategy and leadership in training then?” Cullen asked.

Carver nodded. “I wasn’t sure I saw much point to it but it was a good way to avoid Meredith.” He gestured around. “I guess I see the point to it all now.”

“It’s a just a pity to have to put it into practise,” Cullen said. “Still, I suppose this is marginally better than an Exalted March.”

“There were rumours that the Divine was planning an Exalted March against Kirkwall.”

Cullen looked at Carver with surprise. “Really?”

Carver shrugged. “No idea actually. Leliana and Cassandra won’t say but my brother told me that it was a possibility. Whether it was or wasn’t, by the time Cassandra spoke to me, I think the Divine had started putting the pieces in place for the Inquisitions.”

“Tevinter was quite enjoying all the chaos down here,” Cullen said with a snort. “I’m not sure how they’ll view the Inquisition though.”

Carver looked at him curiously. “What’s it really like in Tevinter? We hear stories and my brother’s lover is from there but he was a slave so he doesn’t have much good to say about the place.”

“It’s…” Cullen sighed. “I’m not sure there’s an easy way to explain it. It’s not the bogeyman we’ve always made it out to be but it’s not a good place either. Between the slavery, the blood magic and some of the prejudices, it can be pretty ugly.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “But after all my time there, I can’t say they’re wrong about some things. We don’t handle mages here well. I don’t know if Tevinter’s way is the best though. Maybe the answer lies somewhere in the middle.”

“The Gallows was a nightmare,” Carver said and his expression became a dull glower. “The mages had it worst. There was a core of us who protected them when and how we could but Meredith was as quick to expel a Templar as she was to use the brand. I think the only reason I didn’t go that way was because Garrett had been named the Champion of Kirkwall and she wanted me for… I don’t know. Leverage maybe. To use as a leash for my brother.” He snorted. “Wouldn’t have worked. Garrett never listened to me.”

“Mages certainly have their freedom in Tevinter but…” Cullen shook his head. “I’ve seen the best and worst of mages there. There are people like Felix who we’d make Tranquil here because his magic is minimal at best. But there, he’s trained as best as he’s able to manage and allowed to do what he’s good at. And you know what? He’s never been in the slightest danger of being possessed.”

“Really?” Carver said curiously.

Cullen nodded. “They’re not taught to fear their magic, themselves or demons in Tevinter.” He snorted and shook his head. “Dorian used to encounter desire demons in his dreams and he talks about them so casually. How he’d spend time eating grapes and drinking wine and talking philosophy or magical theory or whatever and then get so indignant that they then tried to possess him.”

Carver gave him a look of rather baffled disbelief and Cullen chuckled ruefully. “That was the expression I got on my face at first. Actually, mine was probably worse.”

“He used to eat grapes and talk with demons?” Carver said dubiously.

“Yes.”

“Then get indignant that they… did what demons do?”

Cullen laughed and nodded. “He liked the discussions.”

“And mages wonder why we get weird around them,” Carver said with a shake of his head. “What’s with the past tense? He doesn’t draw desire demons anymore?”

Cullen blushed. “Er, no. Not since we, um… got together.”

Carver stared at him for a moment then made a snorting sound that would have sound far better coming from a fourteen year old boy than the Commander of an army.

“So that’s how that works, is it?”

Cullen glared at him, the blush fading as rapidly as it had appeared. “Very funny.”

Carver seemed entirely impervious to the glare as he snorted and snickered and Cullen finally broke down into laughter himself. It had been entirely too long since he’d been exposed to barracks humour and as he laughed, he found that he’d missed it.

“I don’t know if that’s how it works,” he said once they’d both gotten themselves back under control and were no longer acting like a couple of snickering trainees. “I just know what Dorian’s told me.”

“It does make me glad I don’t really remember what I dream about,” Carver said dryly. The Commander then clapped Cullen on the shoulder. “I think I can leave the recruits to the tender mercies of my lieutenants for now. Let’s go to the tavern and you can tell me more about Tevinter. Might be interesting to hear a view of the place that isn’t prefaced by ‘I hate mages’.”

Cullen gave him a curious look as he fell in step beside the lanky former Templar. “Only if you explain that last bit to me.”

“Deal.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of their trip into the future in Redcliffe, Cullen avoids King Alistair, he and Dorian officially join the Inquisition and Cullen has some bad news accidentally thrown in his face. Maybe he really is a renegade Templar after all.

Cullen leaned against the wall in the huge main hall of Redcliffe Castle and watched as the Herald dealt with King Alistair. While he was definitely tired after their little jaunt through time and the battles they’d fought there, he was mostly trying to avoid drawing the King’s attention. He remembered Alistair, both from their days as Templar trainees and from when the Hero of Fereldan had come to the Circle and found him in such a sorry state. Alistair had been with her that day. As much as he’d always liked Alistair when they were trainees, he wasn’t in the mood right now to reminisce.

“Are you alright, Amatus?”

Cullen smiled a little as Dorian joined him in leaning against the wall. “Under the circumstances, shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

Dorian gave a huff. “Perhaps but as I asked first, I get an answer first.”

“I’m fine. A bit tired but fine,” Cullen said with a weary chuckle as he waved towards the King. “And having a bit of unwanted old home week.”

Dorian arched an eyebrow. “You know the King of Fereldan? My, my, Amatus, that was a well-kept secret.”

Cullen snorted. “I knew him when we were trainees. It was a long time ago.”

“And yet, you’re avoiding him. You didn’t like him?”

“No, he was… very likable,” Cullen replied. “He was… with the Hero when she came to the Circle.”

“Ah,” Dorian said with understanding. After all these years together, he knew much of what had happened to Cullen at that time. “Surely if he is as likeable as you say, he wouldn’t hold that against you.”

“I don’t think he will at all,” Cullen replied. “I’m just tired and not really in the mood to deal with the questions right now.”

“Fair enough.” Dorian sighed and leaned against Cullen a little. “Gereon’s practically monosyllabic and Felix is torn between staying to look after him and returning to inform the Magisterium about what happened.”

Cullen snorted. “Will the Magisterium really care?”

“Probably not,” Dorian said, sounding as cynical as Cullen did. “I’ve told Felix he should come to Haven for the moment until we find out what the Inquisition intends to do with Gereon.”

Cullen nodded. “And what are we going to do?”

“I think that largely depends on the Herald,” Dorian said with a shrug. “But I’ll admit I’d like to stay with this Inquisition. I despise that the only view people outside the Imperium have of us is blood mages and Magisters trying to take over the world. I’d like to at least try and prove that we’re not all like that. Some of us even find that sort of thing distasteful.”

“I can’t say I wouldn’t mind staying and helping the Inquisition,” Cullen said in a deceptively light tone.

Dorian chuckled. “I rather thought you’d say that after you and Carver decided to have your little ex-Templar bonding session.”

Cullen blushed at the reminder of the evening before they’d left for Redcliffe. He and Carver hadn’t gotten drunk precisely but they had gotten a little tipsy and had ended the evening exchanging scurrilous stories about their respective times as trainees, much to the amusement of the others in the tavern. He’d had a chance to meet a few of the others in the Inquisition that night as well. The Iron Bull and Blackwall had been interesting to talk to though he was a bit dubious about the elven girl, Sera.

Dorian decided to take pity on him. “Isn’t your old crush, the good Warden Amell, the King’s lover?”

“That’s what I’ve heard.” Cullen looked over at King Alistair with interest. He hadn’t noticed anything going on between the two when they’d come to the tower but then he’d been pretty disinterested in anything beyond his own paranoia back then. He’d heard the stories since then and Carver had all but confirmed it. “I’m happy for the two of them.”

“She’s not Queen though?”

“She’s a mage.”

Dorian snorted. “Ah, of course. The prejudices of the south.”

“We’re terrible really,” Cullen said amiably.

“So the King of Fereldan has a Warden mage lover,” Dorian mused, looking over a the man in question. “That makes him so much more interesting.” He arched a mischievous eyebrow at Cullen. “Do former Templars have a penchant for mages?”

“I don’t know,” Cullen said blandly. “I’m still a Templar.”

Dorian snorted. “In name only.”

Cullen considered that. There was an element of truth to the statement. He still considered himself a Templar but it was ten years since he’d last served under a Knight-Commander and he’d… deviated somewhat from the accepted Templar doctrine during his time in Tevinter. He’d sort of made up his own doctrine that he found more acceptable, which would probably get him censured at the very least if he ever came under the command of a Knight-Commander again.

“Possibly.” He sighed. “I suppose there’s a good chance I’m going to have to decide one way or the other soon enough.”

Just then the Herald finished her conversation with King Alistair and headed for the door. Cullen and Dorian pushed themselves off the wall and skirted around the edges of the hall to join her. Cassandra and Solas joined them just outside the door and they kept going until they joined up with the Inquisition troops.

“Let’s get back to Haven,” Trevelyan said. She looked over at the Captain in charge of the Inquisition troops. “Captain, could you leave a detachment here to escort the mages to Haven? They should be ready by tomorrow and the sooner we get them out of here, the better quite frankly.”

“Yes, my Lady Herald,” the Captain said with a brisk salute.

Trevelyan nodded and they headed off at a brisk pace. It was late in the day so by the time they reached the northernmost camp, the sun was starting to set and the Herald decided there was no point travelling through the night. They settled into their tents and stripped off most of their armour then gathered around the campfire.

“So what now for you two?” Tegan asked, looking a little hopeful.

“Well, we’d rather hoped to stay actually,” Dorian replied. “I can’t, in good conscience, swan off back to Tevinter when my countrymen are making a pest of themselves here and Cullen’s already bonded with your Commander.”

Tegan giggled at that last bit then she smiled sincerely. “Well, we wouldn’t want to upset that.” She sobered a little. “I’d be honoured to have both of you join the Inquisition, especially if you’d both consider joining my…” She blushed a little. “Well, what they’ve been calling my ‘Inner Circle’.”

“Carver mentioned that,” Cullen said with a smile. “He said you’d collected an... interesting group of people.”

Tegan laughed. “I know, haven’t I just?” She waved a hand at Cassandra and Solas. “A Seeker and the Right Hand of the Divine, an elven apostate who knows more about the Fade than anyone I’ve ever met.” She now began ticking them off on her fingers. “A Qunari spy, a Grey Warden, a Red Jenny, a dwarf with the most astonishing crossbow I’ve ever seen and a… somewhat loose association with the truth and Madame de Fer herself.” She grinned wickedly at them. “Why shouldn’t I add a Tevinter mage and a renegade Templar to the mix?”

“I don’t know whether I’d call myself a renegade,” Cullen said awkwardly.

Dorian chuckled. “I would.”

“Dorian.”

Dorian waggled a finger at him. “No, come now, Amatus. When was the last time you were truly the uptight southern Templar who first arrived in Minrathous? I think our little fracas with Razikale rather put paid to that man.”

“Razikale? One of the Old Gods?” Solas said sharply.

Dorian looked over at him. “Yes, that’s the one. It’s a rather long story but the short version is that I, apart from being a dashingly handsome mage and necromancer, am also a Somniari and Razikale wanted to use me to… return to the world of the living as it were. Cullen and I managed to make her Tranquil.” The others were all gaping at them now and Dorian arched an eyebrow at Cullen. “I thought you sent a report to your superiors?”

“I did but I, um…” Cullen rubbed the back of his neck and looked a bit sheepish. “I may have left a few things out.”

“You did indeed,” Cassandra said with dry exasperation. “I think you and I need to sit down and have a long chat about your time in Tevinter, Knight-Captain.”

Cullen winced and Dorian tried to look apologetic.

“Oh dear. I seem to have gotten you in trouble, Amatus.”

Cullen managed a wry chuckle. “When _aren’t_ you getting me in trouble, love?”

“ _Me_?” Dorian affected a shocked look, though there was mirth dancing in his eyes. “I am a thoroughly respectable and upstanding member of society.”

“Even I can smell the bullshit in that sentence,” Tegan said with a grin. “And I barely know you.”

“I am so misunderstood,” Dorian pouted.

Cullen wrapped an arm around his shoulders and kissed his cheek. “No, you’re really not.”

Dorian tensed under the affectionate gesture and the others were surprised to see his expression become wary and nervous. Cullen seemed to know the reason for it as he leaned in close and murmured softly into Dorian’s ear. As he did so, Dorian’s eyes flickered around the others around the campfire as though he was assessing them according to what was being said to him and he began to slowly relax into Cullen’s embrace.

“Razikale is alive though?” Solas asked, deftly stepping past the awkward moment. 

Dorian nodded, gathering his normal manner around him as best as he could. “She is. Just Tranquil now. We have no idea what effect that may have if the Darkspawn find her but the Grey Wardens have been informed as to the situation.” He snorted and shook his head. “Though even after ten years, no one has any idea as to what to do. As curious as they are, the mages of the Minrathous Circle are nonetheless somewhat reluctant to start tunnelling under the building to find an Old God, Tranquil or not.”

“I can understand that,” Tegan said with a very dubious expression. “I think that’s one can of worms that’s best left unopened.”

“That has been the prevailing opinion from everyone involved with the discussion,” Cullen said dryly.

“You’ve been involved in these discussions?” Cassandra asked.

Cullen nodded. “As the Dreamer and Templar who found and defeated her in the Fade, they felt Dorian and I should be involved.”

“And that’s how Knight-Captain Cullen Rutherford met Tevinter’s Archon and Divine,” Dorian said with a mischievous grin. He seemed to be mostly back to normal.

“The Black Divine is a very sarcastic man,” Cullen said with a laugh.

Dorian’s grin widened. “That he is. He’s also bound and determined to corrupt you, Amatus, and bring you over to the Tevinter Chantry. It’s very frustrating for him that he hasn’t succeeded as yet.”

“He hasn’t succeeded in beating me at chess yet either,” Cullen said dryly. “And he’s about as likely to do that as he is to convert me to heresy.”

“But being a heretic is very dashing, Amatus. It would go so well with the whole renegade Templar thing you have going.”

Cullen rolled his eyes but there was mirth dancing in his eyes. “I’m _not_ a renegade.”

“Technically you are,” Cassandra said archly. “You hardly follow the accepted doctrine.”

Cullen hesitated. “No, not as such but the accepted doctrine is flawed.”

Everyone bar Dorian gave him sceptical looks at that and Dorian just laughed.

“Renegade,” he said roguishly. “Accept it and wear it with pride.”

Cullen sighed while Tegan laughed. “I’d say wear it with pride as well, Cullen. They call me a heretic after all.”

“I suppose I’m going to have to make some sort of decision about the whole thing sooner or later,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You have already declined the Lord Seeker’s orders to go to Therinfal Redoubt so I would say the matter is moot,” Cassandra replied.

“I don’t officially _know_ about the Lord Seeker’s orders,” Cullen countered. “If he sent them to me in Tevinter, I missed them.”

“Semantics,” Cassandra replied.

“Tactics,” Cullen said.

Dorian made a disgruntled noise and Cullen sighed again.

“I know you don’t understand my… loyalty to the Order,” he began.

“No, I don’t,” Dorian said flatly. “The Order abandoned you. It washed its hands of you and sent you to the worst place it possibly could under the circumstances. I can’t help but think they expected you to insult a Magister and get yourself killed so they didn’t have to think about what to do with you anymore.”

“Dorian…” Cullen began but he was interrupted by Cassandra clearing her throat.

“I have seen your file, Cullen,” the Seeker said with some delicacy. “Dorian is not entirely wrong. The Order was not sure what to do with you. You were so damaged and no one knew quite how to handle the situation, especially in the aftermath of the Blight. The wording around the decision to send you to Tevinter is deliberately vague and obscure but it implies that the Lord Seeker and the Knight-Commander felt that either Tevinter would know how to help you or they would… deal with you. Either way, the problem would be solved.”

Cullen felt the words like a blow. He stared at Cassandra and he knew his face must be pale and stunned from the look on her face. He couldn’t say the information was entirely a surprise but having some of his suspicions confirmed was still a shock. He’d been _nineteen_ when that decision had been made.

“Amatus?”

He turned around at the soft word and saw the way Dorian was looking at him, all worry and love and concern, and just… couldn’t face that right now.

“I, uh… I need a moment,” he said in a choked tone as he got to his feet and stumbled off into the darkness.

Dorian watched him go with worry etched on his face. It was obvious to the others that he wanted to follow but obviously knew his lover well enough to know he truly did need to give him some time right now.

“I almost wish I’d been wrong,” he said quietly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I am sorry,” Cassandra said with a hesitance he’d never seen from her before.

Dorian shook his head. “No, I think it’s best that he knows the truth, even if it isn’t what he wants.” He scowled suddenly. “How could they have just written him off like that?”

Cassandra sighed. “We have not faced a situation like that before, at least not in recent history. Despite everything, it is very unusual for a Circle to fall like that.”

Dorian snorted. “You cannot tell me that he is the first Templar to ever be traumatised by magic.”

“We made a mistake,” Cassandra said with an edge of irritation. “Is that what you wish to hear?”

“Yes!” Now it was Dorian’s turn to sigh. “No. I don’t know. I apologise. I know it wasn’t your fault, Cassandra. It’s just… the Maker only knows what would have happened if the Knight-Commander at the Minrathous Circle hadn’t taken Cullen under his wing. Actually, I think I should probably also thank the Ferelden Ambassador for that. I’m fairly sure those two were in cahoots about Cullen.”

The others had been very quiet during all of this but now Tegan spoke up.

“It sounds to me like you had a part in it as well, Dorian.”

Dorian smiled faintly. “I’d like to think so.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Alright, I think he’s had his moment.”

He got up and conjured a wisp to provide him some light. He didn’t have to look too hard to find Cullen. He hadn’t gone that far, just far enough to be out of earshot of the campfire but not out of sight of the guards patrolling the camp. Dorian smiled a little. Even in the midst of a personal crisis, Cullen never forgot about the little things. He sent the wisp up a little higher then settled in at Cullen’s side. He gave a tiny sigh of relief when his lover immediately wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close.

“I suppose you’re going to say I told you so,” Cullen said tightly.

“No,” Dorian replied, leaning into Cullen a little more. “Though it does make me hate your Templar Order a bit more.”

“I don’t think they’re my Templar Order,” Cullen said. His voice was bitter and harsh. 

“I suspect Knight-Commander Galeria would be more than happy to accept you into his Order,” Dorian replied.

Cullen gave a breath of a laugh and pressed a kiss into Dorian’s hair. “I’m sure he would.” He was silent for a moment. “They didn’t care.”

Dorian caressed his cheek. “Oh, Amatus, I wish I knew what to say to make this better.”

“I’m not sure there is anything that can make it better,” Cullen admitted. “But I am glad you’re here.”

“Where else would I be?”

They stood there, wrapped around each other for a while, then Dorian chuckled softly.

“You really are a renegade Templar.”

Cullen gave a start that indicated he’d been lost in his thoughts. “I’m not sure I want to be a Templar right now.”

Dorian shifted so that he could brush his fingers along Cullen’s cheek again. “Hush now, Amatus. I know you. You don’t mean that. Maybe what’s really needed is for the definition of what a southern Templar is to change.”

“Maybe.”

Dorian gently pulled away and entwined his fingers with Cullen. “Come back to the campfire and let Cassandra fuss over you. I think she’s fretting that she had to tell you that.”

That drew another soft laugh from Cullen and Dorian was glad to hear it. They made their way back to the campfire and Cassandra did indeed look like she was quietly fretting. She certainly looked up quickly enough when they returned.

“Cullen…” she began but halted when Cullen waved a hand.

“It’s alright, Cassandra,” he said in a soft voice. “I… probably shouldn’t have been as surprised as I was.”

“That does not make it right,” Cassandra said firmly.

Tegan snorted. “It does make them arses though. Well, if the Order doesn’t want you, Cullen, I sure as hell do. Stuff ‘em.”

“Eloquent,” Cassandra said, though she looked rather amused by Tegan’s attitude.

“I can be diplomatic when I need to,” Tegan said with a laugh. “But now isn’t the time. You lot made me the Herald of Andraste and Cullen’s one of mine now. So there.”

“I feel like I should object to that,” Dorian said as he grinned. “But I suspect you’ve claimed me as one of yours as well.”

“Yep.” Tegan looked smug. “I’m going to save the damn world with society’s oddballs and rejects, see if I don’t.”

Cullen chuckled and Dorian was glad to see his shoulders straighten a bit. “Not the first time I’ve been a part of that.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They arrive back at Haven and Cullen and Dorian settle in. And by settle in, I mean they christen to bed and talk a little bit about Gereon and Halward.
> 
> And this chapter just upped the fic's rating to Explicit. So, you know, be warned. There's sex in this here chapter.

Their arrival back at Haven produced a flurry of activity. There were preparations to be made for the imminent arrival of the mages, Cullen and Dorian were assigned a cabin and Josephine was informed they were officially joining the Inquisition as part of Tegan’s burgeoning ‘Inner Circle’, Alexius was taken down to the cells below the Chantry and Felix was settled into guest quarters. Dorian and Cullen were excused from the War Table meeting and instead carried the belongings they’d left in Haven over to their new quarters.

“Nice,” Dorian said dubiously as he looked around the small cabin they’d been assigned.

“It is actually,” Cullen replied as he took the bags Dorian was still holding. “It’s ours. A lot of other people are sharing.”

Dorian arched an eyebrow and looked amused. “Lucky for us. And for anyone who might have been stuck with us.” He smirked. “Though we have gotten creative in the past. Remember that ball in Vyrantium?”

He laughed when Cullen blushed a brilliant crimson. It had taken all of his persuasive powers to talk Cullen into fucking him in an empty room in the Magister’s house, though his lover had certainly been enthusiastic enough once they’d started but that was entirely understandable really. And the scandalised murmurs once they’d re-emerged had been an extra benefit. Dorian might have been able to hide what they’d been up to but Cullen had no such ability to mask his expression and the entire party had known. The apoplectic look on the face of their host had been entirely worth it. 

“Still,” he continued. “This is very… rustic.”

Cullen drew him into his arms. “It’s got four walls, a nice bed and a solid roof. Given the somewhat rushed nature of the Inquisition, I think that’s more than enough.”

Dorian settled into Cullen’s embrace with a contented sigh. “I suppose it does keep out the cold.” He nuzzled the side of Cullen’s face. “Shall we test how soundproof the walls are? Solas _is_ not far away after all.”

Cullen laughed and Dorian could feel the heat from his blush against his skin. “Weren’t you going to go and check on Felix?”

Dorian started to move Cullen back towards the bed, even as his fingers started pulling at the straps and buckles of his lover’s armour and discarding pieces of it. “Felix will understand.”

“That… is a point,” Cullen said and despite his protestations, his hands were busy on Dorian’s armour. 

“He’s waited for us before.”

“Whose fault was that?”

Dorian smirked as he pulled Cullen’s breastplate free and let it drop on the ground. “Mine,” he said smugly.

“Dorian,” Cullen protested and Dorian’s hands stilled.

“I’ll stop if you really want me to,” he said with an arched eyebrow.

Cullen tipped them down onto the bed. “You know I don’t.”

Dorian laughed as he worked his hands under Cullen’s shirt and ran them up his back. “What happened to the hesitant Templar I first met, who would have blushed and stammered and needed to be coaxed into playing truant in the middle of the day?”

Cullen smiled wryly as he pulled off his shirt. “ _You_ happened to him. As you well know.”

“My powers of corruption are great indeed,” Dorian laughed as Cullen propped himself up above him allowing him to run his hands down his chest.

“Something like that,” Cullen agreed. He leaned down and gave Dorian a lazy, soft kiss, their lips meeting and parting then meeting again.

They parted for a moment to allow Dorian to pull off the top of his underarmour and then he pulled Cullen down against him and back into more of those lazy kisses. Eventually Cullen began to kiss his way down Dorian’s neck and the mage arched his head back to give him better access as he moaned lightly.

“I will never forgive my father for wanting to take this away from me,” he murmured as he ran his hands through Cullen’s hair.

Cullen raised his head from where he had been sucking a mark into the soft skin at the juncture of Dorian’s neck and shoulder. “Dorian…”

Dorian placed a finger over his lips. “No, I don’t want to talk about it right now. I want you to continue what you’re doing and fuck me. We haven’t had a proper bed in _weeks_ and I refuse to waste it.”

Cullen gave him a long look then returned his attention to what he had been doing. Dorian knew he hadn’t gotten out of the discussion, just delayed it for a while, but he was going to count the fact that Cullen hadn’t insisted on having it right _now_ as a win. Cullen could be relentless about having ‘ _discussions_ ’ when he felt it was the right thing to do.

“Vishante kaffas,” he gasped as the wet heat of Cullen’s mouth closed around one nipple and his hands slid underneath his back. It felt like Cullen was surrounding him, something he could never get enough of. “Cullen, _please_.”

He whimpered when Cullen pulled away from where he was laving attention on his nipple and smirked at him.

“What?”

“Don’t tease, Amatus,” Dorian all but whined. 

Cullen gave a low chuckle and was just lowering his head when there was a knock at the door. They both froze and Dorian let out a low groan of frustration when Cullen pulled away and got up. The Templar threw his shirt on and opened the door just a little to find Carver on the other side.

“Cullen…” Carver began.

“Carver, now is _really_ not the time,” Cullen interrupted.

Carver looked surprised and a little confused. “What…?”

“Cullen, if you don’t get back here and fuck me right now, you can sleep on the floor tonight,” came Dorian’s irritated voice from within the cabin and Cullen went beet-red.

“Right,” Carver said with a grin. “I’ll just… let you get on with that. I’d hate to be responsible for you having to sleep on the floor.”

Cullen opened his mouth then closed it again before sighing and finally managing, “Goodbye, Carver.”

He closed the door very firmly then, for good measure, flicked the lock shut as well. He turned around and saw that in the time he’d been answering the door, Dorian had wriggled out of his breeches and boots and was now sprawled naked on the bed with a very petulant look on his face.

“Maker, Dorian,” Cullen breathed. 

He yanked his shirt off and tossed it aside before scrambling out of the rest of his clothes. The petulant look on Dorian’s face had faded with each piece of clothing Cullen had removed to be replaced with a look of lust and arousal.

“Amatus,” he breathed as he held out one hand.

Cullen took his hand and allowed himself to be pulled down onto the bed on top of his lover. They both groaned as their heated skin came into contact and their erections slid against each other. Cullen captured Dorian’s mouth in a kiss and he began to slowly rock his hips into the other man’s. Dorian wrapped one leg around Cullen’s hip as he rolled up against his lover’s motion. He moaned as Cullen returned to his neck and started kissing and nipping his way down the warm skin there.

“Cullen, _please_ ,” he gasped as he arched into the other man. “I need you to fuck me.”

Cullen cursed under his breath and rested his forehead against Dorian’s shoulder for a moment while he reined himself in. “Oil?”

“My bags,” Dorian said with a wave of his hand towards their things.

He whined when Cullen got up and rummaged through until he found a vial of oil then shifted up the bed and turned over onto his hands and knees. He felt the bed shift and then Cullen’s hand smooth its way up his back.

“Are you sure you want it this way?” the Templar asked.

Dorian nodded. “Dear Maker, yes.”

He heard the way Cullen’s breath hitched. They both knew what Dorian wanted. He wanted to be fucked hard and fast, so that he would feel it for days. They’d both had days when they’d needed this, to be thoroughly taken by the other, and Dorian wanted it now.

“Fenedhis,” Cullen muttered and Dorian grinned. He always loved it when he drove the man to the point where he started swearing in Tevene.

A moment later, he felt Cullen’s warm hand on his hip and he had only a moment’s warning before there was a slick finger at his hole, pressing in relentlessly. He gasped and moaned and pushed back against it, whining when the hand on his hip held him steady.

“Easy, love,” Cullen murmured, pressing a kiss against Dorian’s spine. “I’ll get you there.”

Dorian shined again but relaxed and let Cullen press his finger inside. He let his head drop as he began to slowly pump his finger in and out then a second finger joined the first. His cock was hanging, heavy and aching, between his thighs and he wanted to take hold of it and stroke himself to completion. It had been too long since they’d had more than a bedroll beside a campfire and even the last time they’d been in Haven, they’d done little more than sleep because he’d been exhausted and Cullen had been half-drunk.

“Cullen, please, I’m ready,” he gasped as he felt a third finger join in.

Cullen stilled behind him and muttered a curse under his breath then the fingers were gone and something larger and hotter nudged at his opening. He dropped down into his forearms and rested his head on them as Cullen slid into him, his hands hard at Dorian’s hips.

“Maker,” Cullen breathed as he curled over and rested his forehead on Dorian’s back. “Love? Are you ready? Can I…?”

“Yes!” Dorian begged. “Kaffas, just do it!”

Cullen straightened and braced himself, his hands clenching tighter on Dorian’s hips. He drew back then slammed back in and Dorian shouted his approval as pleasure burst through him. Cullen set a brutal pace, urged on by Dorian’s moans and incoherent begging and in the way he pushed back into every thrust so eagerly. Then Cullen’s large calloused hand wrapped around his cock and tugged at it and that was all Dorian needed to come. He gave a cry and arched back into his lover as he came all over Cullen’s hand and the bed. Cullen pulled his hand off his cock and wrapped it around his chest, pulling Dorian back against him then back further so that he was straddling his legs. Dorian moaned helplessly as that seemed to drive Cullen’s cock deeper and he clenched around the hard length within him. Cullen swore and then his mouth closed against Dorian’s shoulder as he ground up against him, filling him with a wet warmth.

Dorian slumped back against Cullen, lolling his head so that he could press a kiss to the side of Cullen’s face as he wrapped his hands around the arm that was still clamped around his chest. He felt deliciously sated and wonderfully sore in the best possible way.

“Amatus,” he murmured in a soft, low slur. “Te amo.”

He felt Cullen smile against his shoulder. “I love you too, Dorian.”

The Templar gently eased them both down onto the bed on their sides. Dorian grumbled when Cullen’s softened cock slid out then he sighed and turned to face his lover. Cullen gently caressed his cheek.

“Feel better.”

“Mmhmm,” Dorian hummed as he closed his eyes as the gentle touch.

He felt a press of lips to his forehead then the bed shifted as Cullen got up. He returned in a moment with a wet towel and gently cleaned Dorian up before returning the towel to wherever he’d gotten it from. He then climbed back onto the bed and pulled Dorian into his arms. The mage made happy noises and nuzzled against Cullen’s chest, just letting himself drift in a sea of contentment. 

He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep but he woke up still wrapped around Cullen, though the Templar had fetched a book and covered them with a blanket at some point and was now reading with one arm wrapped firmly around Dorian’s shoulders. He rubbed his cheek against Cullen’s chest then propped himself up just enough to see his lover’s face.

“Sleep well, love?” Cullen asked, setting his book aside and running his fingers through Dorian’s hair.

Dorian nodded. “Thank you for indulging me.”

Cullen smiled. “It’s been a while since we’ve been able to do this. I enjoyed it as much as you did.”

Dorian returned his lover’s smile and nestled into his embrace. Cullen continued running his hand through his hair and over his shoulders and Dorian let himself be soothed by the familiar actions. He often forgot how pleasant just _stopping_ could be, just letting himself rest and do nothing, be with Cullen, be calm and peaceful. And after everything that had happened in the last couple of months, he needed this more than he’d care to admit.

“What’s the Inquisition going to do with Gereon?” he murmured after a while.

“I spoke to Cassandra on the way back here,” Cullen replied, seemingly unsurprised by the question. “She wasn’t really sure. The Inquisition doesn’t officially have a leader yet and she doesn’t think it’s right for a decision to be made without one.”

Dorian propped his head up so that he could arch a sceptical eyebrow at his lover. “The Inquisition doesn’t have a leader?”

Cullen chuckled. “It doesn’t have an _official_ leader. It doesn’t have an Inquisitor.”

“What are they waiting for?”

“Probably for things to stabilise a bit more and for Trevelyan to settle into the leadership,” Cullen said with a shrug. “Also for her to make the attempt to close the Breach.”

“So Gereon just… stays where he is?” Dorian looked disgruntled.

“They’re not going to mistreat him,” Cullen said soothingly. “And they’re certainly not going to hand him over to Ferelden.” He paused. “Not that I think King Alistair would actually ask but the Bannorn will probably make some noise.”

Dorian cocked an eyebrow. “You don’t think he’ll even ask?”

Cullen shook his head. “No. Alistair might have changed from when I knew him as a trainee but I doubt he’s changed _that_ much. He always preferred to play out of sight, out of mind if the issue was one he could legitimately ignore. With Gereon in the Inquisition’s hands and rifts all over Ferelden, he can justify ignoring the matter.”

Dorian grunted and settled down again. Cullen watched him and brushed his fingers along his cheek.

“What’s wrong, love?”

Dorian melted in the way that endearment _always_ made him melt. The way Cullen used it so casually and so sincerely never failed to make his heart thump.

“I can’t believe he…” He grimaced. “Father. Gereon. Why…” He closed his eyes and sighed. “I just don’t… understand.”

“I understand Gereon,” Cullen said quietly. “We were largely out of the Blight at Kinloch and…” He grumbled at the old painful memories before shoving them back down again. “And I was not really in any fit state to pay much attention to anything. But we had a few Blighted people turn up at the Circle, seeking help. So Gereon, I can understand. He wanted to save his son and this Elder One offered him a way to do it. You and I both know that Felix… isn’t getting better. That you’ve only bought him time, not a solution.” 

Dorian made a pained noise and Cullen rubbed his back. Felix’s situation was horrific and it was painful to have to watch the intelligent young man who had been such a good friend to them both be slowly and inexorably consumed by the Blight. _And_ to watch Gereon become more and more despondent and desperate as every day passed.

“Your father though. I could kill him.” Cullen actually growled as he said that and Dorian looked at him with surprise. Cullen rarely spoke ill of Dorian’s father, even if his expression often gave him away, so to hear him do it now made Dorian blink and stare a little. Cullen frowned at him in return. “Dorian, the first I knew of anything being wrong was when a slave turned up at the embassy gates and then to find you…” He closed his eyes and he realised how close they had come to disaster. He tightened his embrace then pulled Dorian into a fierce, almost possessive kiss. “You have no idea how much I wanted to introduce him to _exactly_ what a Templar can do but you were my priority.”

Dorian’s face lit up with mirth and delight. “We could always go back.”

Cullen gave him an exasperated look and pulled him into another kiss. “Let’s not.”

Dorian laughed then his expression settled into something warm and fond. “My knight in shining armour. I do love you, you know.”

“I should hope so,” Cullen replied though he was blushing at the sentiment. Dorian said it so rarely like this – open and honest and not at the end of sex – that it was special each and every time he did so. It wasn’t that he ever doubted how Dorian felt about him but it was nice to hear it. “I love you too.”

Dorian smiled sweetly for a moment then settled back down with his head on Cullen’s chest. “Enough syrupy sentiment. Sleep.”

“I should see what Carver wanted,” Cullen began then he yelped when Dorian pinched his side. He huffed and rolled his eyes, a smile flickering over his lips. “Or I could stay here and be your pillow.”

“Much better,” Dorian murmured.

Cullen chuckled and gave in. In truth he didn’t really want to move. Carver would be there later and it had been far too long since they’d had time to just laze around. Considering what the Inquisition faced, it would probably be far too long until they’d have another chance like this. It was best to enjoy it while he could. With that thought in mind, Cullen closed his eyes and let himself doze with his lover in his arms.


End file.
